


Unarmored

by RebelLou



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Blindfolds, Brief noncon moment at the beginning, Din Djarin Removes the Helmet, Dirty Talk, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Minor Injuries, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Smut, Sparring, Unprotected Sex, but reader doesn’t see him, fem receiving, its gotta come off for sexy reasons, no y/n
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-28 05:22:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 23,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30134634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RebelLou/pseuds/RebelLou
Summary: The Mandalorian recruits you to travel with him as a mechanic/nanny. Feelings develop, Mando’s walls come down, and you admit you care about each other. So ensues ~filth~.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 13
Kudos: 84





	1. I Trust You

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, friends!  
> Hope you enjoy this story, I was going to write a one shot but I can’t write smut without plot so here we are - 23k in. So it’s a 3 parter!
> 
> Please excuse any silly mistakes, I don’t know everything about the Star Wars universe and I’m really bending everything to what I want it to be if I’m honest. For example, Din has a small room/bunk of his own, not just a cubby. And he’s still working with the Guild, but no one is after him. 
> 
> I really just did whatever the fuck I wanted, but I hope you guys like it too!! Also, it doesn’t get super steamy until the last chapter, so do with that what you will. 
> 
> And follow me on Tumblr if you want! Same username <3

It’s been just over a month now that you have been traveling on the Razor Crest with the Mandalorian and his kid. It still seems surreal that you managed to escape Tatooine and be swept away by the beskar-clad bounty hunter. It was all kind of comical, to be honest. You- taking care of a green baby after an honest-to-Maker Mandalorian had sought you out to employ you. You imagine that some higher power threw this situation together just to laugh about it. But you couldn’t say that you weren’t beyond thankful and content with how it all unfolded. You still remember it like it happened yesterday. 

~

It was nighttime now, the usually blazing heat from the twin suns now calmed to only a warm breeze. It was nice. And you had no work to do for once, so you had naturally found yourself relaxing in the closest cantina. You had only gone to have a few drinks before retiring back to hanger 3-5, where you currently had been residing. You needed a place to stay, and you were a good mechanic, so Peli reluctantly let you squat in a storage room. She couldn’t afford to hire you, but she was gracious enough to give you the ‘room’ and would make sure you were fed so long as you helped with repairs during the day. 

Your plans to have a few drinks are put on pause, however, by a pushy humanoid man who took the seat beside you at the bar. You hadn’t even finished your first drink yet, the bright blue liquid filling about half of your glass still. He was grinning at you and sipping his own drink, making a point to look you over. He probably thought he was a real charmer. You hadn’t been looking to go home with anyone, especially when you still had oil stains and grease marks on your tank top and arms, but this guy just didn’t seem to get the hint. 

“So, you come here often?”

Oh Maker, that was the best he could come up with? And did he have to sit so close without invitation?

“Actually, I think I need some fresh air.” You reply smoothly, giving him a forced smile and downing the last of the drink you held. You slide off the stool before he can argue and make your way out the back door of the cantina. 

The alley was empty, not a soul occupying the narrow strip between the cantina and the next building. You let out a sigh of relief and close your eyes, letting the warm breeze blow your hair over your shoulders. After a moment you lean back against the adjacent wall, letting what alcohol you had consumed sooth you while you imagine what it would be like to escape this dry hell-hole. 

Your eyes snap open when the back door of the cantina opens abruptly. 

He really can’t take a fucking hint, can he?

You let out an annoyed sigh as the man from the bar meets your gaze, a smirk gracing his features upon finding you.

“Well what’re you doing out here, doll face?” He was slurring, just slightly, as he made his way over to where you were leaning against the opposite wall. “I thought you might be leading me out here.” He adds in a hushed tone, now crowding in front of you. 

You groan and put your hands up, pressing them against his chest to keep him at an arm’s length away from you. 

“I definitely was **not** leading you anywhere.” You sigh, grimacing when he only chuckles and leans closer. 

“You don’t have to play cat-and-mouse with me, doll, I’m already chasing you.” He breaths, and his breath reeks of cheap alcohol. You scrunch your nose up and try to lean further into the wall he has you cornered into. 

You’re not worried, you’ve taken on people far larger and more competent than this man. And you have a small blaster tucked into the back of your pants waistband for good measure, but you wouldn’t normally resort to using that on some drunk, horny oaf. 

“Listen, I’m not trying to lead you on. I’m thoroughly uninterested.” You huff out, turning your face away from him when he leans his own face in close enough that you can feel his breath against your cheek. 

“Baby, come on.” He pleads quietly, his hands now finding purchase on your sides. “I can change your mind.” He purrs and his lips are dangerously close to the skin on your neck, but it doesn’t have the effect he wants. You groan and you’re prepared to resort to kicking his ass until he gets the hint- but then he’s suddenly ripped away from you. 

For a moment, you and the man are just staring at each other- both looking thoroughly shocked and confused, now about two feet apart. But then your eyes land on the looming figure that’s got ahold of the back of the man’s shirt. 

He’s **tall** and so **broad**. Fully covered in shiny, beskar armor. The Mandalorian iron reflecting what little light reaches the alley, the rays bouncing off of him. You would normally be nervous, you had never met a true Mandalorian before, but he was currently maintaining a tight grip on the man that was invading your space only seconds ago. So, you don’t feel inclined to be concerned, but only slightly intimidated. 

“Are you the human mechanic Peli recommended?” 

And _oh_ , his voice is... deep. It’s a bit gravely and heavily modulated through his helmet. You almost don’t think about how absurd his question is, too caught up in how the black T-shaped visor is trained on you and how it feels like he’s interrogating you. 

“Well I’m not the droid mechanic.” You finally respond. You just hope he didn’t take notice of how you were sizing him up before you had managed to form a reply. But it’s hard not to when he’s all shiny metal and towering intimidation. 

He only tilts his helmet to the side at your response, visor still trained on you even as the man he had pulled from you yanks out of his grasp. Though you have a feeling that if the Mandalorian _really_ wanted to keep a grasp on the man, he would have. Just by looking at him, you don’t doubt his strength. 

“Hey, pal. Do you mind?” The man that neither of you were paying much mind to shouts. You finally tear your gaze from the Mandalorian to look back at the other man. You could tell he was hesitant to stand up to the warrior, and he should be- you thought. 

The Mandalorian doesn’t spare him a glance before he pulls the blaster from the holster on his side and trains it at the man’s head. Then, he slowly shifts his gaze away from you and to the man he had the blaster aimed at. He was exuding irritation- shoulders taught and his free hand balled into a fist. 

“She’s not interested.” The Mandalorian says on your behalf. You watch as the man stumbles backwards, trying to scramble further from the blaster. You don’t recognize some of the curse words he utters as he hastily retreats from the alley and disappears around the corner, but you’re glad he’s gone. 

You’re left to look back at the Mandalorian, his arm falls back to his side but he doesn’t re-holster the blaster yet. 

“Peli said you’re looking to get off Tatooine. And you’re a good mechanic.” He states. And it’s subtle, but you swear you see his helmet shift down and back up just barely, like he’s taking a moment to look you over. Normally, you don’t mind sporting your stained tank top and cargo pants, but all of the sudden you feel like you need to cover up. Not because he’s making you uncomfortable, per say. But because he’s just that fucking intimidating. Is he judging you? Is he checking to see if you’re armed? Is he-

“Are you okay?” He asks suddenly. 

Right. You were just felt up by some sleemo before he showed up.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” You respond quickly, running your hands over your torso to smooth your clothes out. “I had it all under control.”

The Mandalorian lets out what sounds like a small huff, putting his blaster back into its holster finally. Was he... laughing at you?

“And yeah, Peli is right. I’m a damn good mechanic. I also happen to hate it here.” You sigh, straightening up your shoulders in an attempt to not appear like you had already downed a full glass of booze on an empty stomach. You weren’t drunk by any means, but you definitely felt the familiar buzz in your veins from the drink you had before you were interrupted. 

The Mandalorian hums and hooks one of his thumbs in the front of his utility belt, relaxing into the stance. 

He shouldn’t look this attractive right now. Were you really mentally undressing the armored man in front of you? Maybe. But you blamed it on the alcohol. And also the curiosity is peaked in you knowing that you couldn’t actually see an ounce of his skin. 

“I have a proposition for you then.” He says finally.

And little did you know just how life altering it would be. 

~

And that’s how you ended up here- sitting in the closet that you had turned into a makeshift bunk in the Razor Crest and reflecting on the past week. 

You and Mando - the name he had told you to refer to him as - had settled into a routine. You made repairs on the ship any time you could and watched the kid when Mando was bounty hunting. He wasn’t one to talk much, but he made sure the three of you were safe and continued his work to make credits. In his proposition, he offered you a small cut of his earnings. Truthfully, you would’ve accepted anything to get off of Tatooine, so you were grateful he cut you a decent deal. And that’s how you lived, hovering around each other and settling into a comfortable ‘normal’.

That ‘normal’ hadn’t varied until about four days ago. After the few weeks you had spent together, Mando began revealing more of himself to you. He already knew nearly everything about you, as you usually filled the silence in the cockpit, but this was the first time he gave you his story. You learned more about what being Mandalorian meant to him- what it entailed, why he wore the helmet, and why you called him Mando. And he even explained the kid and how they became a ‘clan of two’. It was all very... different. It almost seemed like he was unsure of it all too. He did say not all Mandalorian lived the same way- with the same code. But who were you to disrespect his chosen way of life?

Plus, you’d be lying if you said that his armor didn’t strike a chord in you that you wouldn’t have expected. It was strangely attractive- seeing how effortlessly and gracefully he made the heavy metal look. It suited him, you thought. His metaphorical shell that he guarded himself with was also quite literal. 

Then, you saw his skin for the first time.

You never claimed you weren’t clumsy. You could take care of yourself, could hold your own and you weren’t afraid to get scrappy, but you couldn’t shake being clumsy. It didn’t help that Mando made you a little nervous. So it shouldn’t have surprised you when it resulted in an injury. It wasn’t anything serious, just a nasty bruise. But of course on the day that you choose to wear shorts something lands on your leg. 

You limp through the hull to a crate, pulling yourself up to sit on it with a groan. You look down and sigh at the bruise that’s beginning to bloom on the inside of your knee and calf. It hurts like a bitch and you can’t even see the tail end of the bruise where it stretches toward the back of your calf. You relax back against the wall and squeeze your eyes shut. Thankfully, the kid is tucked away and asleep, so you’re not in any rush to get back up. You didn’t even hear Mando descend from the cockpit, but then he’s suddenly in front of you. 

“What happened?” And you’ll never get used to the sound of his voice. Even though you’ve memorized it over the past month, dedicated it to memory and began decoding how he says each syllable to gage how he’s feeling. Right now, you can pick up on a hint of concern. Which makes sense, you’re probably overreacting but it fucking hurts. 

“It was an accident. Was trying to repair some of the wiring and the panel fell on my leg while I was on the ground.” You sigh, opening your eyes to glance up at him. “My fault, I shouldn’t have left it propped up like I did."

Mando tilts his helmet and looks down toward your leg. You lift your calf and turn it slightly for him to see the red and purple splotches that are still developing. He hesitates for a moment, then he drops to one knee in front of you. 

You suck in a breath, holding it as you watch him observe your leg closely. You still aren’t breathing when he reaches out and tenderly wraps his hand around your ankle. His hand is large enough to wrap around your ankle entirely. He uses his grip there to turn your leg outward, inspecting the entirety of the bruise. His touch is setting your skin on fire, though he has gloves on you can still feel his hand radiating warmth. For such a large, strong man, he’s handling you oh so gently. Like he might break you if he’s not careful. 

You’re so distracted staring at his hand holding you that you don’t hear what he says to you, but you soon realize he’s waiting for you to respond. 

“I’m sorry, what?” You sputter, your eyes now back on his visor. He just gives one of his signature huffs that you’ve come to identify as a laugh of sorts.

“I said will you hand me the med pack. It’s on the wall.” He repeats with a nod of his head, directed at the wall to your right. You look up and find it there, hanging within arm’s reach thankfully. You make quick work of grabbing it and handing it over to the Mandalorian at your feet. This warrior, bounty hunter, kneeling before you. You shouldn’t let it get to you, and you blame it on being stuck with Mando alone in the Crest 24/7, but you can’t help letting lewd thoughts fill your mind once again. It’s hard, when there’s a living breathing entity so close yet so far. And he’s kneeling right there, almost between your legs. It feels like ages since you’ve been touched, especially this gently. 

You’re lost in your thoughts as he digs through the pack, and you miss his hand that has left your ankle. You don’t get much time to dwell on it though, because then he’s pulling off his gloves. 

You watch with wide eyes as he removes the leather, sliding them off one hand at a time. You feel like you’re watching a strip tease with how heat radiates from your cheeks, down your chest, and all the way to your core. And he’s not even touching you yet. You’re only ogling golden, tan hands as he opens the tube of bacta cream in his hand. But you can imagine them everywhere now, his warm, human hands on your body. You want to squeeze your thighs together at the mental imagine, but his hand is wrapping back around your ankle now- skin to skin. 

You could faint. Which seems so stupid. You’ve never been one to swoon over anyone or get flustered, especially by such a simple touch. But something about the way his - now bare- hands are holding you and gently spreading the cream across your bruised flesh has you reeling. You fight back a wince and any other reaction that would reveal how much it stings, because you don’t want to risk making him stop. You’re definitely breathing heavier, the rise and fall of your chest more noticeable with your labored breathing. Mando doesn’t seem to take notice however, completely focused on spreading a thin layer of medication on your heated skin. If you weren’t so enthralled with his hands working against your skin, you would notice how tense his shoulders are. And how slowly he’s actually moving. Taking his time as he essentially caresses your calf. 

It isn’t until he’s finished covering the last of it, by the side of your knee, that he finally looks up at you again. You’re both staring, your cheeks probably still sporting a soft flush and his hands still holding your calf gently. After a moment, you realize you need to break the silence before you burn up under his gaze. But your thoughts are jumbled and you’ve lost all sense of cool. 

“My knight in shining armor.” You murmur breathily. It’s meant to be a joke, but you imagine you probably sound as flustered as you are. Mando doesn’t seem to be offended by it but he also doesn’t laugh. He only retracts his hand finally, using a rag to wipe them off before he reaches for his gloves again. 

“You should be more careful. It’s a bad bruise, but the bacta should help it heal within the next day or two.” He says, his gloves now pulled back into place. You try not to deflate at that, wishing you could have felt them just a fraction longer. Maybe being stuck in space was making you desperate. But another part of you knew it was just the effect that Mando had on you, whether you liked it or not. 

After that interaction, things were slightly different. The past four days went on as normal, except for now they were filled with subtle touches. When Mando passed you, he let his hand brush against your waist to guide you out of his way. Or when he needed your attention, he would lightly grab your elbow to get you to look at him. You, in turn, also found yourself guilty of this. Like when Mando needed rest, you would lay your hand on his shoulder when you told him so. 

It was all so subtle, but so electrifying. It made you nervous, but it also excited you. Knowing that you could be this comfortable with the Mandalorian, where others would cower, made you feel **good**. And it was hard to not yearn for more. Especially with how often you found yourself attracted to and drawn to the man. 

So, as you sit in your bunk and mull over the changes, and how you felt about Mando, and what would come next, you can’t help but grin. It quickly falls when you hear a commotion from somewhere in the hull. It almost sounds like someone... fell down?

It was far too loud to be the kid, but concern for him is what first comes to your mind and has you racing out of your small room. You fly through the door and into the empty hull, glancing around quickly. No one was there. Which is good because you hadn’t even thought to grab your blaster. You step through the hull, your bare feet padding softly on the floor as you look for where the noises had come from. You thought for a moment that you should wake Mando, but what would you say? You heard a loud noise and got scared? You turn away from the door to his room quickly and sigh. Maybe it was just him. Nothing to worry about. While you think this is most likely the case, you can’t help but scan your eyes over the hull once more. 

A soft coo floats from the cockpit, catching your attention immediately. 

Wait, why the hell was the kid up there while both you and Mando were sleeping?

Then a firm hand is covering your eyes and pulling you back to press your head to a solid shoulder behind you. An unarmored shoulder. Your first instinct is to panic, fight your way out of it. You throw back an elbow, landing a blow to the assailant’s side, before you suck in a breath in preparation to yell for Mando. The figure groans at the hit and then another hand covers your mouth quickly, their hold becoming tighter and anchoring you to their larger frame. 

“Stop. It’s me.”

It sounds so familiar but so unfamiliar at the same time. You stop struggling, but your body stays tense. Because even though his voice sounds so different, you know it’s _him_. Once he feels you relax he moves his hand that had been covering your mouth to your arm, allowing you to speak again. 

“Mando? What the fuck is going on?” You breathe out quickly, frozen where he’s still holding you. 

“The kid. He woke up before me.” Mando replies breathlessly. And now you know what’s different. His voice is... unmodulated. Deep and rich and so clear because it’s closer to your ear than it’s ever been. Which means- “He took my helmet.”

You can’t move. You can barely breathe. How did you both manage to get yourselves into this situation? You were usually so careful with the kid. You knew that because Mando considered Grogu his son that the kid had already seen his face, but you never thought that the kid could pose a problem like this. It makes sense though, he probably prefers his father figure without the helmet in the way. But now that resulted in you being held against a broad, muscular chest. Unarmored and warm against your back. You could quite literally fall asleep where you stood with how nice it felt.

“He’s in the cockpit.” You finally say, gnawing at your bottom lip. This is the second time now that you’ve felt his bare skin on yours. But it’s the first time you’ve been near him completely unarmored. He probably doesn’t feel very pleased or comfortable without all of the usual metal separating him from the rest of the world. Your heart almost aches at the thought that you’re aiding in making him that uncomfortable too. “Mando... I won’t look, you know.” You whisper. Your eyes are closed beneath his hand, so he already knows that you aren’t currently trying to peak. “I can go get your helmet.”

He hesitates at your words, his hand on your arm tightening a fraction. Then he sighs and the hand covering your eyes falls. “If you do look, I’ll have to kill you.” He mutters, and if you didn’t know him any better than you’d think he sounded a little nervous. But you keep your eyes squeezed shut and huff out a laugh. 

“I already told you I wouldn’t. Now you’re just threatening me for fun, Mando.” You say playfully, attempting to ease his tension. 

“I can go-“

“Trust me. I got it.”

And he does. Thankfully you’ve been on the Crest long enough to be able to navigate it blindly. It’s relatively easy to make your way from Mando’s firm chest to the cockpit, only hesitating when you reach the ladder. But it was easy enough, you didn’t need to see it to know how to climb into the cockpit. You’re still hesitant to open your eyes when you’re finally there, far from Mando. You slowly peak your eyes open and smile when you take in the scene before you. Grogu is standing beside the helmet where it lays on its side, his small hands resting on the metal. He looks up at you with a grin, cooing as he pats the top of the helmet. 

“Baby, I’m sorry. You can’t take that.” You laugh quietly. You don’t want Mando to know that you find it so funny, but it really is. You lean down and scoop the child into your arms, holding him to your hip and holding Mando’s helmet in the same hand. It’s only a little bit difficult, considering it’s not exactly light, but you have to keep a free hand to descend the ladder. Your eyes are squeezed shut again as you make your way cautiously back toward where you left Mando. It takes longer than getting there had, and it crosses your mind that you probably just should’ve sent Mando to do this. Why didn’t he suggest that instead when you offered to go?

You shake that question from your thoughts as you pad through the hull. Grogu gives a particularly loud coo and you assume that you’re close enough to where Mando is still standing, so you stop. You can’t see it, but Mando stares over at you. Watching you cradle the child and grip his helmet, eyes still screwed shut and head tilted downward. He can’t fight back a small grin at the scene, and you don’t know it, but you’re actively breaking down the walls that he guards himself with. 

Mando finally steps forward and takes Grogu from your arms then disappears, leaving you standing with his helmet. You take a deep breath and wait, allowing him the time to put Grogu back in his small, makeshift hammock that’s in Mando’s bunk. The beskar helmet in your hands is cool to the touch, sitting heavily in your hands. You wonder what it’s like to view the world only through a visor. Is it different? Are the colors obscured?

“Mando-“

“Thank you.”

You jump. You hadn’t even heard him come back, but he sounds close enough that you could reach out and touch him before your arm fully extended. He’s that close- unarmored and unmasked. Maybe he trusts you more than you had anticipated. Whatever the reason, the proximity and realization of it brings a flush to your face. 

“No problem. I know you wouldn’t kill me anyways.” You tease, trying to regain some of your composure and ease back into the banter you normally fall into with Mando. It’s just hard when he’s standing here, tempting your curiosity. Your hands ache to actually reach out. But you won’t. 

“Oh, you think I wouldn’t?” He hums. You can practically feel his signature head tilt, even though you can’t see it. 

“Wanna find out, Mando?” You shoot back, a small grin pulling at your lips. Even though at this point, you both know you won’t open your eyes. 

Your grin falls when you feel the air shift, Mando takes a step closer to you. You instinctively take a step back. “You hit me earlier. When I grabbed you and you didn’t think it was me.” He changes the subject. And you had forgotten, but it was true.

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Someone should teach you how to fight properly.” He takes another step toward you when he says this. And when you take another step backward, you hit the wall. Now you’re pressing yourself into the cool metal behind you as Mando looms in front of you. 

“Someone?” You breathe out. It’s hard to focus on the conversation and not on how you can feel his body heat radiating off of his armorless frame. 

Mando hums, taking the opportunity to look at you without the visor in the way. His eyes scan over you while you can’t see it. “Do you want me to?” He finally asks. 

You hesitate, even though you know the answer. Of course you want to learn how to defend yourself better. And who better to teach you than a Mandalorian? 

“Yes.” Fuck, you sounded needy. Why does he have this effect on you?

“It won’t be easy.” He replies. You feel fingertips brush across your jaw and you gasp softly at the feeling. Mando has never been this close and... **intimate** with you before. It’s probably the longest conversation you’ve shared. His head is tilted, gaging your reaction as he ghosts his fingers across your jaw before they move to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear gently. “I won’t take it easy on you, mesh’la.” He adds quietly. His words juxtaposed with how soft his touch is. And the name he calls you is foreign to your ears. 

It almost sounds like a challenge. But you already trust Mando more than he tries to let on. You know he wouldn’t seriously injure you. He’s protected you too many times. He quite literally helped heal you just the other day when you hurt your leg. 

“I don’t want you to.” You whisper back, leaning into his challenge. And it all sounds a little suggestive to your ears now. But you won’t take it back, you don’t want to. 

This has Mando pulling his hand back, his fingers now curled into a fist as it lowers to his side again. His jaw is clenched and another hum rumbles through his chest, deep and alluring. 

“Yeah?” He murmurs. He leans his face in closer, his cheek mere inches from your temple and his lips just above your ear. “Good.”

Chills run up your spine and your breath is caught in your throat. You’re normally not one to let him have the last word, but your brain is scrambled and all you can think about is him shoving you up against the wall and kissing you senseless. Instead, you feel him finally take his helmet from your grasp. His fingers brush yours gently in the exchange and you have to fight to not reach out and touch him again. You hear him slip on the helmet, to your dismay, but you keep your eyes closed tight anyway. Just in case. 

“You can open your eyes.”

You do. Your eyes flutter as you adjust to the light after so long keeping your eyes shut. It takes a second, but then you’re able to finally see Mando where he stands. He’s still so close to you, though not as close as he was a moment ago. 

“I’ll teach you to fight.” He says affirmatively, then he’s retreating from you. It gives you a moment to really see him without all the beskar. Only in his black trousers and long sleeve, the helmet being the only metal covering him. You can even see the tan expanse of his exposed neck. You want so badly to feel it, to sink your teeth into that skin and press your lips to it. “But only because that hit you threw earlier was pathetic.”

You gape at his back as he steps further from you, leaving you flushed and surprised. He only makes it to the door of his bunk before your next words stop him in his tracks. “I’m not that bad. I could put up a decent fight against you.” Your voice sounds far more confident than you really are, and you hope that the color tinged on your cheeks or your tense shoulders don’t give you away. Mando slowly turns back toward you, taking a moment to think about your claim. 

“You think so?” He asks, crossing his arms over his chest. “And do you always get this red when someone proposes fighting you?” You’re not sure Mando has ever teased you before, but he’s definitely teasing you now. You huff, crossing your arms over your chest to mirror him. You can practically feel the smug look he’s probably wearing underneath his helmet. 

“I don’t know, do you always flirt with the person you plan on fighting?” You shoot back without thinking. You instantly regret it. It’s bold and presumptuous, and you hadn’t really thought he was flirting. But maybe he was. He definitely had abandoned all sense of personal space mere minutes ago. You hadn’t planned on calling him out on it though. 

Mando chuckles. A real, not just a huff, chuckle. It’s like music to your ears when it floats from the modulator, the sound slightly altered. And you relax slightly at the knowledge that you didn’t piss him off. 

“No. Just you.”

If this was a fight in boldness now, he still won. You fight to keep the heat from growing on your face and neck but it’s useless. When he finally turns and disappears back into his bunk, you know you’re probably bright red and look stunned. 

Mando has you wrapped around his finger. You are **so** fucked.   
  


The last couple days flew by. Mando spent most of it working on finding leads for a particularly crafty bounty. But in the evenings, he kept true to his promise and taught you how to better defend yourself. You picked it up quickly, mastering the new stance he told you was better for your size and capabilities. You even landed a few punches on Mando that had him a little surprised. Not because he didn’t expect them, he literally asked you to hit him for practice, but because you had a decent amount of force behind them. As you progressed, things were getting harder though. You had only tried to spar with Mando once, and it was utterly comical. When you were only using what he taught you, you couldn’t seem to outsmart him. It was unfair really. So today, now that he had already secured the bounty earlier in the day, you decided to tell him just that. 

You were both outside the crest, standing in the small, open field he had landed in. Your breathing was labored and you had a thin sheen of sweat covering your skin. You rested your hands on your hips and tilted your head back, letting the breeze cool your face. Mando looked less winded, of course. You almost couldn’t tell that he had been putting in any effort at all to deflect your hits. That’s probably what made you finally snap. 

“I could put up a real fight, you know.” You huff, bringing your face back down to look at him. “If you let me use what I know, too. Then I’d be able to put up a fight.”

You really believed it was true. What Mando had taught you was definitely helpful, but you weren’t trained this way like he was. You had to teach yourself from a young age how to fight back. It didn’t have a science behind it, and it wasn’t something you could even teach someone, but it was just instinct. You had to use what you could in the moment. Find peoples’ weaknesses. Find a way out. 

Mando hums, a slight tilt to his helmet as he regards you. “Is that a challenge?” He asks. He takes a step forward, his shoulders square to you and a hand grasping the front of his utility belt. You swallow the lump in your throat and ignore the nagging thoughts of ‘maybe this isn’t a good idea’.

“Yeah! It is, tin man.” You tease, taking a step up to square off with him. You’re far less intimidating than he is. Looking up to keep your focus on his visor just shows the obvious difference in height. And even with your hands on your hips, it still doesn’t mask just how much broader he is than you. A killing machine, quite literally, standing in front of you. And you just told him you could put up a good fight. Maybe you’re an idiot. 

“Okay. Then prove it. I’ll judge whether it’s a real fight or not.” He responds. Then he backs up, moving into a ready fighting position similar to the one he taught you. You bite your lip and take a step back to do the same. 

“I might surprise you.” You murmur, a grin tugging at your lips as you settle into your stance.

“I don’t doubt it.” He says. And it catches you slightly off guard, which must have been his intention because then he’s moving. He’s lightning fast, but you’re more agile. You narrowly dodge his calculated hits. 

On the last one you manage to grab his wrist and yank him forward. He stumbles a couple steps, caught off guard, as you allow him to pass you. And for a split second he has his back to you. So you take the opportunity to swipe one of his legs with your own. He falls to a knee with a grunt and just before he can turn around, you’re on his back. Your feet are still planted on the ground, but with him on his knee you’re at the perfect height to wrap an arm around his neck. Your body is pressed up against his back as you wrap your arms in a chokehold around his throat. It’s hard with the helmet and the cowl around his neck, but you’ve got a decent grip on him. 

Your eyes widen when he reaches up and takes both of your biceps in his large hands. You don’t have a moment to let go before he bends forward and pulls you over his back. You land on the ground in front of him with a groan, your back aching at the impact. It’s not enough to have you tap out, just enough to stun you for a second as you stare up at his visor. That is, until you see him preparing to grab you again. 

You quickly roll to the side, just out of reach, and you’re back on your feet. But so is he. And either you pissed him off or he’s deciding to end this fight, because he lunges toward you suddenly. You’re quick to spin around and begin darting away from his reach. You can hear his heavy footsteps chasing behind you. And he has the upper hand now, so you have to think **quick**. 

There’s nothing out here to help you gain an advantage on him, so before you know it you’re running up the ramp of the Crest. You’re just a fraction ahead of him so he doesn’t see you tuck yourself up against the wall beside the ramp opening, hiding from his line of sight. He’s quick to follow you into the hull, freezing when he realizes you’re not in front of him anymore. He whips around just in time to face you while you use all of your body weight to push him back against the wall. You’re both huffing now, breathing heavily with how much energy you’re putting into this fight. 

You reel back to land a jab to his side, but he’s faster than you. He grabs your hips and spins you around so that he has you cornered on the wall now. Your back hits the wall with a gasp, your arms clutching onto his because of how disorienting the movement is. And he must be ready to end this now, because he’s pulled the metal cuffs from his belt and has one of your wrists trapped in the gadget before you realize what’s happening. You react instantly, bringing a leg up to kick him further from you. The metal on his torso prevents the kick from doing any damage and he still has ahold of your cuffed wrist, but it gives you the space to slip around him. Now you’re behind him again, his left arm that had ahold of the cuffs containing your right wrist is now trapped across his own chest and over his shoulder in order to not let go of the cuffs. If you pulled hard enough, he’d have to let go of you in order to not be choking himself. But you don’t get the chance to try, because Mando let’s go. You’re surprised before he hits a button on his vambrace, and you’re all but dragged to the wall he had you trapped on only seconds ago. The metal of the cuffs had magnetizing to the hull, leaving you once again with your back to the wall and your right hand now stuck in the cuffs above your head. You gape at him in front of you, and you want to tell him it’s cheating but you’re the one who had asked for no rules. So instead, you lift your foot up again to kick him away. This time he anticipates it, grabbing your knee so that you can’t kick him. You groan and attempt to through a left-handed, awkward punch in a last ditch effort. He catches your wrist too. And he steps forward into your space so that he can plant your wrist on the wall beside the cuffs. 

You freeze. You hadn’t realized the position you were getting yourself into until you got here. Mando has one hand grasping your knee, which he has pinned against his side, and the other hand is pinning your free wrist to the wall. He’s close enough that your chest brushes his armored one with every gasping breath you take. And if you had previously thought that this fight would end up here, it was definitely under different circumstances. One with far less clothes separating you. 

But here you were, fully clothed and panting while in this suggestive position. Mando hadn’t made any move to change it though. Maybe he was waiting for you to admit defeat. Or, he could be just as distracted by the risqué way he now had you trapped. 

Either way, it gives you the split second you need to realize your only move left. You keep your eyes trained on his visor, gaze unwavering, as you take advantage of him being distracted and slip your uncuffed hand from his grasp. You only have to move it slightly to be able to instead grab his wrist and push it into the open end of the cuffs. The metal closing around his wrist with a click. 

You can’t help the grin that makes its way onto your face when he snaps his head up to see what you’ve done. You almost have to hold back a laugh, because you know he has to be shocked. His visor slowly lowers again to look back at you and you bite your lower lip. 

“We could call it a tie?” You whisper teasingly, your now free hand moving down to rest on his cuirass. 

He still hasn’t dropped your leg from his hip. If you were naked, just in theory, he would only have to move his hips forward a fraction to-

“Fine.” The word rubbles through him, you feel it under your hand that’s still on his chest. 

“Good.” You say back. “Then you could uncuff us now.”

“I could.”

But he doesn’t move. He’s stock still, watching your reaction. 

“But then I’d have to let go of you, mesh’la.” He gives your leg a small squeeze where he’s still gripping it and you gasp softly in reaction. It’s the same name he called you the other day, but you still weren’t sure what it meant. You’d normally ask, but all you can currently focus on is how he’s leaning into you. Closing what little distance there was between you. He’s close enough that your breath is causing a faint fog on his shiny helmet and your chest is pressing firmer against his with every breath you draw in. 

Seemingly satisfied with the reaction he gets from you, Mando drops your leg. 

“We can call it a tie, but I _was_ taking it easy on you.” He admits, moving his free hand up to demagnetize the cuffs and remove them from your wrists. It puts space between you again. 

“You’re lying.” It comes out whinier than you meant for it to, but you wouldn’t doubt it if he was taking it just a bit easier on you. Even though you’d hate to admit it. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you.” He shrugs, replacing the cuffs to his belt. “But I am... impressed.”

You smile at that. It makes you think that maybe you did win after all. 

“Considering you’re covered head to toe in beskar and twice my size, I’ll take this as a win. Since I’m at the disadvantage.” You decide, brushing your messy hair from your face. 

“You didn’t win. You just cuffed us together.”

“Maybe I could’ve gotten out of it!”

“But did you want out of it?”

You feel the warmth in your chest at the implication. You’re gnawing at your lip again as you brush off your clothes and try to formulate a response. 

“Mando, you can’t take this win from me by fucking with me.” You say affirmatively, grinning at him as you pass and head to the refresher. “I’m not falling for it.”

You hear him chuckle and he follows your movement with his visor. 

“I guess not.” Is all he says, and you glance back at him briefly before you close the refresher door. 

And if you thought about how he had held you against the wall while you got yourself off under the warm spray of the shower, well he never had to know.   
  


The next time you see him is after he has taken off from the planet you had been on, and has set course to Nevarro. Your hair is still slightly damp when you make your way to the cockpit, slowly moving to the passenger’s seat. You keep your eyes on the bright streaks of stars flying by when you sit in the seat by Mando. The two of you sitting in the comfortable silence for a moment. 

“Is the kid still sleeping?” You ask softly, turning your face to look at the Mandalorian. He finally turns his helmet to look back at you and gives a small nod. You smile and nod back, turning your face again to stare out into space. 

“You did good today.” Mando says, his visor still aimed at you. 

“I couldn’t fight you off though.” You laugh, bringing your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. 

“But if I was anyone else, you probably would’ve gotten away.” He replies. 

“Well... thanks, Mando.” You murmur, smiling softly. You look back to meet his gaze. He’s been staring at you for a decent amount of time and you wonder what he’s thinking. 

“You weren’t worried to fight me today?” He asks suddenly.

You furrow your eyebrows at the question. “Why would I be worried?”

“You weren’t concerned that I would hurt you?”

It makes you laugh lightly. You shake your head. “No. You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“How do you know?”

“I trust you.” Your response is quick. He knows you didn’t have to think about it. You feel like you should be embarrassed, but what you said is true. You’ve become attached to Mando in the past month and a half. You know so much more about him than you used to, whether you realized things because he told you them or because you figured out yourself. 

Mando doesn’t seem to have a response. He’s still staring at you, unmoving and unwavering. You worry briefly that you’re pushing it. You wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to keep you at a distance, it seemed like something he could realistically want after he’d spent most of his life alone. But you both had grown so close now. Unintentionally and subconsciously. You were just... drawn to each other. 

A coo echoes from the hull suddenly and you’re both broken out of your daze. You both stand up at the same time and then freeze, waiting to see who’s going to go down to get Grogu. You duck your head and laugh. Sometimes you two were better in sync than you meant to be. Mando takes a step toward you instead, slowly moving to stand in front of you. You look up at him, craning your neck to maintain his stare. Your heart is racing in your chest as you wait for him to speak. Or to make a move. Or to do **anything**. You’re putty in his hands. 

“You trust me.” He says. And it’s not a question, but you find yourself nodding anyway. “Close your eyes.”

Your breath catches in your throat. There’s only a handful of reasons you can think of for him to ask you to do that. And all of them have butterflies erupting in your stomach and your pulse skyrocketing. So you do as he says, letting your eyes flutter closed. 

You’ve never been more sure of a decision as you are in this moment, listening to him move as you stand there blindly. His clothing rustles softly and a faint hiss sounds from somewhere near his shoulders. After a few seconds you feel him take the last step toward you, the toes of his boots bumping yours. And then you feel him lean in and breath fans across your lips. You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and unintentionally lean in a hair, your lips ghosting over the unfamiliar pair in front of you. You hear him suck in a small gasp at the feather light touch and you vow to yourself that you’ll have to get that sound out of him again. Another time. 

You’re not sure who finally breaks, but then your lips are pressing together. Your hands instantly move up to grasp at his cowl, refusing to let him pull away just yet. But he’s not making any movie to do that, his hands find your waist easily. One of his hands stays planted there while the other moves up your back to press between your shoulder blades, effectively keeping you against him. 

Your lips mold together slowly in a languid and timid kiss. Neither of you move to deepen it nor pull away. It’s new and gentle, but it’s so so good. You could stay here all night, letting Mando lead your lips through this new sensation. There’s a soft tickle to it and it makes you realize- Mando has facial hair. It’s short, only stubble, but you feel it now. Part of you aches to know more, to reach up and touch his face that you’re forbidden to see. But you wouldn’t dare risk him pulling away. 

Another coo, louder this time, is what makes the two of you finally pull apart. You’re both breathless and still holding onto the other one, unwilling to move just yet. You can feel his eyes on you, scanning your face. Part of you is worried that he thinks you’ll open your eyes, but another part of you knows that he’s taking the opportunity without the helmet to look at you. Just like he did the other time he had his helmet off with you. So you let him.

“I’ll go check on him.” Mando whispers, and you want to cry when he pulls his hands off of you. You hear him pick up his helmet and secure it back on his head, but you stay there with your eyes closed anyway. Your mind is running a million miles an hour and you’re still frozen in place. 

You feel his fingers tuck under your chin, keeping your face up so he can see the blush that has risen up from your neck. Then you let your eyes open again to look up at him. He grins beneath his helmet and runs his thumb across your kiss-bruised bottom lip softly. It send shivers down your spine. 

“Beautiful.” He murmurs, keeping your chin between his index finger and thumb. “ _Mesh’la_.” 

And he doesn’t have to explain further. You understand instantly what he said. You didn’t have to ask what the name meant - he had just told you. Your cheeks only flush further and your hands tighten where they’re still grasping at Mando’s cowl. You hadn’t even realized you were still practically clinging to him. But he didn’t seem to mind. 

It’s hard for you to let go, but Mando takes your wrists gently and steps out of your hold to go check on Grogu. Once again, leaving you stunned and reeling.   
  



	2. Lay Next To Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as long at the other two, a little filler, but things still progress!

The next 12 hours are filled with you and Mando taking turns sleeping while the other watches after Grogu. Which was just fine with you, considering you needed a distraction from thinking about what had happened between Mando and you. Sometimes you can get the kid to nap with you, but most of the time you’re entertaining him. His favorite pass time is having elaborate ‘conversations’ with you. That and trying to steal small, shiny objects that he knows he isn’t allowed to have. A couple times he even waddles over to stand in front of the door to Mando’s bunk. You smile softly down at him and shake your head. 

“He’s asleep, little guy. We don’t want to wake him up.” You coo, lifting Grogu off the ground and into your arms. He looks over at the door still, a small pout forming on his lips. You laugh quietly and walk toward a crate where you can sit, keeping the child wrapped in your arms. 

“How about I sing you a song instead?” You murmur, grinning when Grogu’s attention comes back to you immediately. He babbles in response and fists a lock of your hair in his hand excitedly. “Okay, okay. How about your favorite?"

Your heart leaps when Grogu rests his head on your chest, his fingers rubbing the strands of your hair he’s still holding. You know you’ve grown attached to Mando since moving onto the Crest, but you’ve also grown massively fond of his foundling. You would take a bullet for this kid. He made your heart swell, and you couldn’t help but hold him just a little tighter. 

Finally, you began whisper-singing a song to him. Not only did you not want to bother Mando, but you also were slightly embarrassed at how much you’ve come to care about his kid. After all, he wasn’t your child. He was Mando’s. But you couldn’t help the feeling you got as a result of being Grogu’s other guardian. 

You hadn’t noticed Mando open his door though, otherwise you wouldn’t have continued to sing softly and rock the child gently as he watched. Grogu’s big brown eyes that had been staring up at you were slowly falling closed. His fingers that had been grasping your hair fell limp. You fought back a laugh as you continued your quiet song, staring down at the kid as he succumbed to sleep. Your right hand came up to gently stroke his soft head, between his ears. Effectively coaxing him into deep sleep. You let your song trail off, simply staring down at the bundle in your arms. 

“Goodnight, kiddo.” You whisper sweetly, sighing in contentment. 

“I didn’t know you could sing.” Mando says suddenly, quiet as to not wake Grogu. 

You’re surprisingly able to keep yourself from jumping at the sudden noise, your head turning quickly toward where Mando is standing. You bite your lip, hoping the dim lights conceal the flush that rises to your cheeks. 

“I don’t often.” You say simply. 

“You should.” He replies, stepping closer to look down at the child sleeping in your arms. “It’s nice.”

“You want me to sing you to sleep too, Mando?” You’re teasing, though you’re hesitant too. Because all your brain can think about is how his lips feel on yours. And how he had taken his helmet off just to kiss you. 

He chuckles and shakes his head, his visor turning to look up at you now. “I want you to sing whenever you want, mesh’la.”

And **that**. He had called you beautiful. More times than once and in more languages than one. A smile stretches across your features, you couldn’t hold it back if you tried. “I’ll keep that in mind, then.” You whisper, your gaze never leaving his. 

He takes a moment to continue watching you cradle the child before he finally steps away. He moves to the small table where blaster parts are sitting unassembled on a rag, taking a seat there. He had left it that way earlier when you told him he needed to get some rest. You hadn’t expected him to immediately listen to you, but he had dropped what he was doing to do so. Now he seemed to be resuming where he left off. 

You stand slowly, as to not wake Grogu, and carefully move to his pod hovering nearby. You gently transfer him into the small pram and tuck him in, closing the lid once he is settled. 

“You really care for him.” Mando states, visor still trained on the work in front of him. 

You wrap your arms around yourself and take a step toward him. His back is to you where he sits. “I do.” You admit with a soft sigh, the corner of your lips curving upward. 

“He cares for you too.” He says affirmatively, his fingers gliding across the individual pieces of the blaster. Cleaning off any grime from the metal. 

You hesitate, mulling over your words before you work up the courage to spit them out. “And what about you?”

His hands stop moving. Visor turning up from his task. You watch from behind him as he decides on a response to your inquiry, waiting nervously. 

You can see his hands clench into fists and then unclench as he thinks. You take the moment to move another step closer. From where you stand now, you’re close enough to him to see his work over his shoulder. He can sense your presence behind him, and he seems to decide on an answer because his tense shoulders relax again. 

“I care for you also.” Mando says, his helmet turning toward you but only a fraction. It gives you view of his profile. 

Your heart feels like it’s going to burst and you grin to yourself for getting this confession. You lean forward, pressing your body up against Mando’s back where he sits. Your hands move to rest on his shoulders, closer to his neck so that only the material of his shirt and cowl are separating you instead of his pauldrons. 

It’s subtle, but you feel him lean back into you. Any residual tensions leaving his body. You lean in as if to whisper near his ear, your cheek brushing the beskar. 

“Is that why you kissed me?” You ask softly, eyes downcast. 

“Yes.” His reply comes quick this time. He doesn’t take time to think about it, he’s telling you the truth. “Why? Did you not want me to?”

You shake your head, nibbling at your lower lip. “I care for you too, Mando.” You whisper. “You can kiss me whenever you want.” 

He spins around in the stool suddenly to face you. Your hands fall from his shoulders momentarily before he reaches out to grab your waist and pulls you onto his lap. You gasp when you fall forward onto him, your knees bracketing his hips and hands finding their place back on his shoulders. He holds you there with his hands high on your hips, fingers pressing deliciously into your skin over your shirt.

“Is that what you want, mesh’la?” He asks, resuming your conversation like he hadn’t just captured you in his lap. 

You stare back into his visor and nod slowly. “Yes.”

His hands tighten where they hold you in response, a hum rumbling through him. Then, all of the sudden, his grip relaxes. Almost as if he realized something. One of his hands leaves your hips and his fingers caress your cheek. His thumb brushes under your eye gently. 

“Did you sleep earlier?” He asks. 

And **fuck**. You should’ve realized sooner that you probably looked like you hadn’t slept. Because, well, you hadn’t. Not really. When you tried earlier you couldn’t seem to get your brain to turn off. You only tossed and turned, willing your mind to stop thinking about what happened in the cockpit with Mando. 

“I tried.” You mumble shyly. He’s touching your face so gently that goosebumps erupt across the skin on your arms. 

“You should get more rest.” He says, letting his hand fall from your face. “I was going to ask... if you wanted to come with me tomorrow. When we land.”

You had gone with Mando when he needed to meet with Greef Karga a handful of times. Mostly when it followed a long bounty and you were itching to stretch your legs. You never went to the cantina with him though, you usually took the chance to restock supplies at nearby vendors instead. But most of the time you preferred to just hang around the ship with the kid. Though there was something about the way he was asking you this time that had you gnawing at your lip again through a grin. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that it sounded like **he** wanted you to go with him this time. 

“Yeah. I’d like that.” You murmur, letting your eyes fall. 

“Then you need to rest.” He says matter-of-factly. “Do you want to lay in my bunk?”

You look back up at him, your lips tugging down into a small from. “But what about y-“

“With me.” He adds, his hands on your hips giving a small squeeze. It has your head-spinning and your heart rate rising. You try to not look as surprised as you feel by the offer. 

“Okay.” Is all you can manage to say back. 

Then he’s standing up, bringing you with him and carrying you toward his bunk. You’re holding onto him like your life depends on it, even though he’s making it seem effortless to carry you. Your legs are still locked around his torso when he walks you into his room and to the small bed. It’s bigger than your makeshift bunk, but it’ll still be a snug fit for both of you to lay there. He leans down to carefully deposit you onto the mattress, his hands lingering on your sides when he pulls back. You’re reluctant to let go, but you pull your arms back and behind you to brace yourself on the bed. You stay exactly how he left you, leaning back on your arms and legs bent so that your feet are against the sheets, when he steps back. You’re about to ask why he pulled away, but then he begins pulling off pieces of his armor. 

You follow the motions, your eyes never leaving his hands as he masterfully removes all of the beskar covering his dark underclothes. Each piece of Mandalorian iron finding temporary placement on the floor. The only metal he leaves is his helmet. Once he’s bare of armor, he takes the step back toward the bed. Standing right off the edge in front of you. 

“Do you still trust me?” He says it playfully, but it’s still unbelievably deep and raspy. You shiver at the sound, letting your lips turn up into a soft smile. 

“Of course.” You murmur, blinking up at the visor that hasn’t left you since he sat you down. 

He doesn’t reply, and he doesn’t even move his gaze when he reaches over and shuts off the lights. With the door closed, the room is nearly pitch black. There’s a hint of light sneaking its way in from the perimeter of the door, but the hue isn’t bright enough to illuminate anything inside the bunk. Your hands fist the sheets beneath you in anticipation as your eyes flutter in the darkness, trying to adjust. You hear the small hiss when Mando removes his helmet. Then the clunk when he drops it onto the floor with the rest of his armor. 

He slides his way back where he had been, crawling onto the bed to replace himself between your legs. It forces you to lay back all the way as he moves to hover over you. You feel the dip in the mattress where he plants his hands, on either side of your head, to support his weight above you. You hiccup in air when you feel hair tickle your forehead. Your eyes widen and you reach up to plant your hands on his firm chest. His unarmored, warm chest. You wish you could see. To know what the hair brushing your skin looks like. To know how extensive the facial hair that you felt before is. To know the features that you’re denied visual access to. 

All thoughts flood out of your mind when you feel Mando’s lips ghost over your jaw. He trails them across your jawline all the way to your ear, never quite putting enough pressure behind it for it to be considered a kiss. 

“You can touch me.” He whispers over your ear, his breath tickling your skin and sending lightning threw you all the way to your core. You knew what he meant, but you didn’t miss the double meaning in his words. Was it intentional that he phrased it that way? Either way, it had your heart hammering against your rib cage. You imagine that he can probably feel it where his chest is touching yours. 

You reach up with hesitant hands, gingerly resting your palms on his cheeks. The first thing you notice is that his stubble extends across the planes of his cheeks and jaw. It’s slightly scratchy, and you can’t help but think about how it would feel scraping against your neck, or your stomach, or your thighs...

Your hands trace over Mando’s features slowly. Feeling the furrow in his brow, the curve of his nose, and then your fingertips dance over his full lips. You hear his sharp intake of breath when you glide your fingers across his surprisingly soft lips. Then something snaps. Like you had been pulling a rubber band to its limits slowly until it finally busted apart. 

You meet each other in a hurried kiss, your hands moving to tangle in the hair you had felt on your face moments ago. It’s longer than you expected, shaggy and maybe a bit curly. It feels soft threaded between your fingers. You use your grip to keep Mando’s lips anchored to yours, unwilling to let him pull away from your passionate kiss. You don’t intend to, but you tug gently at the strands, pulling a muffled groan from him. It has you flushing and arching up into his body. Where your first kiss had been timid and gentle, this is insistent and purposeful. 

Mando supports himself on one elbow resting by your head, which allows his other hand to roam your side. His touch is firm, causing your shirt to bunch up when his hand runs up your waist. Gloveless fingers dig into your exposed skin, burning the feeling into your memory. You hadn’t realized he had taken his gloves off, but the sensation of his exposed skin on yours has you overheating. 

You have to pull away briefly to suck in air, soothing the ache in your lungs from going so long without breathing. But Mando is quick to take advantage of your parted lips. He slips his tongue into your eager mouth to reconnect and deepen the kiss. You can’t help but let out a soft moan against his mouth, his tongue molding against yours. He growls against your lips in response to the sound, leaning more of his weight into you. Effectively trapping you between him and the mattress. You’re almost overwhelmed with how he’s surrounding you. His body draped over your smaller one and lips still working against yours. Even your smell is consumed with **him** , both his body and the sheets on the bed wafting the familiar smell of leather, gunpowder, and pine. It’s intoxicating and addicting. And you could’ve stayed there indefinitely, letting Mando take control of your lips and explore the side of your body that he could reach. 

But he yanks himself from you after what feels simultaneously like 30 second but also potentially 5 hours of kissing. You both pant into the darkness, neither moving any further from the other. You’re tempted to pull Mando back down, reconnect your lips, and lock your ankles behind his back to keep him from pulling away again. He’s speaking before you get the chance to actually execute it. 

It’s not a demand in the slightest, he’s reminding himself why you’re here: “Sleep. You need sleep.” He rasps out, still sounding breathless. You bite your abused, swollen lip and give another experimental tug at his hair. He groans in return, the sound vibrating through his chest that’s still pressed to yours and in turn reverberating through yours. It goes straight between your legs. 

“I can’t drag you through Nevarro tomorrow.” He says through a grin. “You have to rest.”

You sigh, even though you’re smiling from ear to ear. “Well, you see... I was _trying_ to sleep but then-“

You stop abruptly when you feel Mando pulling away. Instinctively you grab ahold of his shoulders, not wanting him to leave. In the darkness you can’t see his smirk or the way he openly considers changing his mind and picking up where you left off. But you’re almost embarrassed at your actions and you let your hands slide down to his chest, giving him the opportunity to pull away if he tried again. Instead his hand comes up to gently take hold of your jaw, gaining control of your movement. His thumb rests near your pressure point on one side of your neck and his fingers wrap around the opposite side, bracketing your ear. He leans down to graze his lips along your jaw, above where his thumb is placed. He trails his lips delicately and leisurely to your chin then up to your lips, his mouth only a breath away from connecting with yours. The tender, yet commanding hold he has on you combined with the feeling of his lips is enough to have you squirming beneath him, breathless and anxious to have his lips pressed to yours again. 

He chuckles softly, and the sound is magical when it reaches your ears completely unmodulated or muffled. 

“Sleep.” He whispers huskily, closing the space and slotting his lips against yours for one more kiss. You try not to keen into it, but the way he’s holding your face to his has you light-headed. You honestly never would have guessed he had been trapped behind his helmet for so long with how he kisses you. You’re not sure if it’s past experience or if it’s just passion in how he kisses, but it’s so fucking **good** that it doesn’t matter. 

He pulls away and takes your hands from his chest, taking a moment to kiss across your knuckles, before he moves off of you. He shuffles onto the bed beside you, laying on his back with a soft sigh. One of his arms reaches out to pull you into his side, wrapping the arm around you to keep you close. You tuck yourself close to his side, resting your head on his shoulder gingerly. It’s an odd, unfamiliar feeling to be this close to Mando. The normal armor and gloves no longer separating you. You think he may be a little tense too. How can you blame him though? He didn’t always have someone taking up space in his bed, especially while he was helmet-less and vulnerable. But you’re comfortable and it’s soothing enough to have your eyelids drooping closed already. 

“Is this okay?” He whispers, face turning to brush his nose against the crown of your head. 

“Yes.” You breathe out immediately, relaxing against his warm frame. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the smell of your hair and timidly resting his hand on your side. You shiver at the feeling. And it isn’t long before you finally allow the darkness to take over, surrendering to sleep.   
  


When you wake up, there’s an obvious lack of warm beneath your cheek. You blink your eyes open to confirm that Mando is indeed not in bed with you anymore. You sigh and stretch your limbs, pressing your face into the pillow beneath you. It smells so much like Mando that if you closed your eyes you could probably imagine him still here. 

You sit up, rubbing the sleep from one eye as you peer around the bunk. His armor is no longer on the floor so you assume he’s already somewhere with the kid. You take the opportunity to be alone with your thoughts for a second. 

Things were surely progressing between you and Mando. But where were they going? He said he cared about you. What you didn’t know is if he cared about you in a ‘I haven’t gotten laid in a long time because I’m covered in armor and have a kid’ way or if it was more intimate than that. Did he want to... be with you? Did he want exclusivity and labels? Or was it just convenient and an outlet for him? 

You groan and shake the thoughts and concerns plaguing you away. You slide out of the cot and make quick work of getting yourself presentable. 

After changing clothes and a moment in the refresher, you feel properly awake. You finally make your way up to the cockpit in search of the mysterious man consuming your thoughts, just to find him in his usual position. 

Sitting stoic in the pilot’s seat, stars streaking past the windows reflecting on his armor, and the child perched on his knee. It makes you smile, watching as Grogu babbles something up at him. Mando rubs one of his large ears between two fingers affectionately, staring down at his foundling. 

“We’re almost there, kid.” He reassures him, keeping one hand on Grogu’s back to keep the kid from falling off his knee as Mando resumes pressing buttons and flipping switches on the control board. “I’ll let you go wake her up soon, okay? You just have to settle for me for a little longer.”

You fight back a laugh at seeing Mando tease the child. It’s unfair how precious it is. Grogu only coos up at the Mandalorian and pats the man’s arm with his tiny hands. You’re honestly not sure there’s ever a moment that goes by when Grogu isn’t vying for Mando’s attention. It’s sickeningly sweet and you do your best to not to let it melt your heart. But your best isn’t good enough, you swoon anyway. 

“Wake who up?” You break your silence playfully, stepping further into the cockpit. Grogu’s head turns to you quickly and he smiles wide, throwing both his arms up excitedly with a small squeal. You laugh and wave at the kid, taking your seat in the passenger’s chair. Mando’s visor turns to look at you when you sit. 

“There’s this girl. He really likes her.” He replies. And you thought if you listened hard enough, you might be able to hear a small smile in his modulated voice. “Maybe even a crush.”

You laugh, watching as Grogu continues to reach toward you with a whine. To be fair, it had been many hours since you saw him. You did need the sleep though. 

“Oh, is that so?” You question, raising one eyebrow slightly. “Are you jealous?”

Mando huffs a laugh and shakes his head, turning back to the control board. “No. He’s not allowed to have a girlfriend yet.” He’s joking, but you can’t resist the cheeky response that comes to mind.

“What about his dad?” You ask, eyes trained on Mando’s profile. _Fuck_. Why would you ask such a loaded question, joking or not, after last night? Were you stupid? You worried about what he wanted all morning and now you were openly joking about it. You were definitely an idiot. 

Mando turns to face you at the question, seemingly caught off guard. Before he can reply, you’re interjecting with a different subject. 

“Thank you.” You say it a little faster than you meant to. “For letting me stay with you last night. I did finally get some decent sleep.” You force a smile and scratch the back of your neck awkwardly. 

Mando hesitates, but ultimately allows the shift in conversation. “No need to thank me.” He says, finally passing the whining kid over to you. You grin at Grogu and shake your head at his antics, resting him in your lap where he finally quiets down. “It was... nice.” He says lamely. 

You stare over at him, unable to stop the smile that breaks out across your face. It’s just so funny. “Maker, Mando. Don’t lay it on too thick.” You say sarcastically through a laugh. “Sorry if I took up a lot of your bed. I didn’t mean to intrude or kick you out of your own bunk.”

Mando chuckles and drops his head a bit. “You didn’t.” He replies. “Sorry. I just... It’s hard for me to explain what I’m thinking sometimes.” You both already knew that. He wasn’t a man of many words. And he wasn’t used to having to converse with someone regularly, let alone live with them, until he hired you. “I meant it though. It was nice.”

You take in what he’s saying, feeling the pang in your chest at his sincerity. He’s trying to let you in. To tell you how he felt about last night. And you didn’t even ask him, he wanted you to know he liked it. 

“It was.” You breathe out, a smile still curling your lips. He only stares back. You feel like you can hear the gears turning in his head, the air between you filled with unvoiced thoughts and desires. You don’t get a chance to voice any inquiries about what he’s thinking because then he turns away, taking you out of hyper speed and turning his focus to the impending planet. 

You spend the landing process is silence, though you don’t find it tense or uncomfortable. You’re both lost in your own thoughts. Grogu is content playing with a seam of your shirt and looking out the windshield every so often, satisfied with just being in the cockpit with his two favorite people. You’re not even sure what you would call yourself to him. His friend? His nanny? The chick that feeds him and makes sure he’s alive when his father figure is away? You don’t really know. 

When the Crest finally touches down on the planet’s surface, you’re both quick to begin readying yourselves for departure. For you, that means making sure the kid is taken care of and sat in his pod. Once you’re both prepared and the ramp is lowered, you find yourself standing at the top of it beside Mando. He’s looking at you while you gaze out at the planet, letting the wind billow your hair behind you. You didn’t need supplies, it hadn’t been that long since you restocked. It’s part of the reason you were so surprised when Mando asked if you wanted to accompany him. Were you going with him to the cantina to meet Karga this time? Or would you just make yourself busy doing something else? 

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Mando rests a gentle hand around your arm. 

“You okay?” He asks, helmet tilted at you. 

Your eyes meet his visor and you nod quickly. “Yeah, sorry. I just zoned out.” You laugh, reaching up to tuck away the hair that’s blown in your face. Mando beats you to it, pushing the strands away with his gloved fingers. He tucks the hair behind your ear and then gives your chin a nudge up with his crooked finger. 

“Come back down.” He says it playfully. “I didn’t stop kissing you last night so you could get sleep just to have you daydreaming through Nevarro anyway.” There’s something else behind his voice, it almost sounds suggestive. He’s teasing you again. You feel your cheeks heat up at the confession that he wouldn’t have stopped kissing you otherwise. He takes only a moment to see your flush in reaction before he chuckles softly and begins walking down the ramp. You gawk at him as he retreats. He probably would’ve winked at you before he left you there if you could see him. 

Grogu coos happily as his pod floats past you behind the Mandalorian. You grin softly and take a deep breath, jogging down to catch up with Mando and the kid.

This mysterious, hunk-of-metal man is going to be the death of you. You’re sure about it.    
  



	3. I’ll protect you; You’re mine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW 18+
> 
> Leave a comment if you enjoyed!! It’s my first fic for our man Mando so I’d love feedback!
> 
> (I may even add little one shots to this story in the future.)

You like how it feels walking around with Mando. People move out of his way on sight and nobody dares to bother you. It’s nice. It’s also so **hot**. Watching how his presence commands respect and how he oozes confidence as he saunters through the city has your body temperature rising. If you weren’t in public, it would probably have you dropping to your knees for him. 

You’re able to keep any more lewd thoughts at bay as you approach the cantina. You hesitate outside the entrance and it catches Mando’s attention. He turns to you and tilts his head in question. 

“Uhm... do you want me to go with you?” You ask, it comes out more awkward than you meant for it to. “I just mean, I can take the kid and go somewhere else if you don’t want me to come with. I know it’s your job and-“

“I want you to come with me.” He says simply. “I’ll go talk to Karga. You can get a drink or get the kid something to eat. Unless you’d prefer to wait somewhere else.”

You shake your head vehemently. “No, it’s okay. I’ll come with you. I just don’t want to get in your way.”

He huffs a small laugh and moves a hand to brush across your lower back, guiding you closer to the doorway. “You’re never _in my way_ , mesh’la.” He reassures you. It takes everything in you to not flush again as he leads you through the threshold. 

When you’re both inside, his hand falls away from you back. You miss the feeling of it there, but you know he has work to do. That’s why you’re here. You’re about to take the kid to a small table near the bar when Karga seems to spot you from his booth. 

You don’t realize he had caught the way that Mando guided you in, catching sight of the gloved hand on your back just before he had let go. Karga smirks and slides out of his booth. 

“Mando! How’s my favorite bounty hunter?” He booms, walking over to clasp hands with the Mandalorian. You’re not normally intimidated or anxious about strangers, but meeting the person who Mando ‘works for’ has you a little on edge. 

“Karga.” Mando greets back simply. It makes you grin. _A man of few words._

Karga’s line of sight turns to you suddenly, his lopsided grin evident. “I see you’ve brought company. Maybe someone that might actually have a drink with me.” He laughs, extending his hand to shake yours. 

You smile back politely as you shake his hand. “Oh, I don’t know...” you reply to his offer. He drops your hand and takes a step back, toward his booth. 

“Come. Take a seat, Mando. I’d love to meet your...” Karga trails off intentionally, glancing between you with a smug look. You feel the need to save Mando from answering that. Part of you is also worried what he would say. 

“Partner.” You fill in. And it crosses your mind that it could sound like you meant _relationship_ partner, so you continue. “I’m his mechanic, and I help with the kid.”

Karga hums, and you’re pretty sure he’s not convinced, but he leaves it alone. 

Mando turns his attention to you. “Why don’t you wait at the bar?” He suggests.

“I won’t bite.” Karga teases him, sending you a not-so-subtle wink. “There’s plenty of room at my table.”

Mando turns to you again, his visor trained on your face and giving you the control to answer. You don’t miss the way his fists ball up at his sides, clearly irritated that Karga was pushing it. 

You turn to Karga and give him a small smile. “That’s alright. I’ll leave you two to your business.” You decline. “But it was nice to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Karga replies easily, nodding his head. “And if you change your mind, you know where we are. It’d be nice to have a pretty face to look at. Not that your helmet isn’t very pleasant and shiny, Mando.” He teases, before retreating to his booth. 

You give Mando a reassuring smile, trying to let him know everything’s fine. His fists stay clenched, but you think his shoulders relax a bit. “I’ll take the kid.” You murmur before you leave. You guide the pod over to the end of the bar, standing beside the last stool at the counter. 

There’s not a ton of people, it’s definitely not crowded. There’s more people in the booths than at the actual bar. They all look very serious and deep in conversation, probably talking about various business matters. It’s been a while since you’ve been to a cantina or really drank. You really hadn’t since you met Mando and started traveling with him. You didn’t feel the desire to drink though, especially not when two big brown eyes are staring up at you. You smile down at Grogu. He looks tired already, probably bored with his current surroundings. You laugh softly and look back up, curious where the droid bartender is. 

You just stand there for a while, allowing yourself the time to be on your feet. Because you know how cramped you can feel being stuck on the Crest sometimes. You’re mindlessly reading all of the labels of the vibrant alcohols on the shelf, missing the drunken Weequay that is causing a small scene at the other end of the bar. 

Mando must have had a point when he said he didn’t want you daydreaming around Nevarro, because normally you would have had your guard up and been ready for what happened next. But you had so many things on your mind, most of which had to do with said Mandalorian, that you weren’t on your A game. You aren’t prepared when the drunk, angry Weequay storms up to you and snatches the collar of your shirt. You’re pulled to face him suddenly. A gasp is forced from you and your hands fly up to grab at his arm. You try to yank his grip from you, but he’s stronger and he pulls you upward with a snarl. Your toes hover off the ground and you tighten your hold on his wrist to keep yourself from choking. Everything was happening too fast. 

“You have some nerve showing your face here, bitch.” He sneers, his words slurring together. He was clearly too intoxicated to realize you weren’t whatever woman he had beef with. And you can’t voice that to him with how he’s holding you up by your collar. Your body finally catches up to you and you mentally prepare to swing back and kick the asshole in his weathered face, when a blaster is suddenly pressed against his temple. Time freezes, the cantina going quiet, as the familiar click of the blaster being switched out of safety rings through the silent air. It seems to piss the Weequay off because he growls and lifts you a fraction higher, causing you to gasp for air and claw at his hands that’s keeping you suspended.

“Take your hands off her or I pull the trigger.” Mando’s voice sounds impossibly deeper, the fury in his voice evident. The man holding you takes a millisecond too long to do anything and it results in several other blasters clicking out of safety as they take aim at him. You don’t have to look to know it’s Karga and his men, still standing a decent distance away but helping nonetheless. 

You can’t help the coughs that rip through your throat, your lungs tired of being restricted from taking in full breaths. And finally the Weequay drops you. You fall to your feet and stumble back at the suddenness of it, your hands pulling your collar away from your neck and gulping down air. You feel lightheaded at the sudden change, your chest heaving with the ability to fill your lungs completely again. 

Mando is quick to take the man by his throat. His gloves hand engulfs the man’s neck, squeezing there as he keeps his blaster on the man’s temple. “I should kill you where you stand.” He seethes, ignoring the man’s gasping and wheezing. He’s too incapacitated to even come close to escaping Mando’s hold. 

“Mando.” You breathe out quickly, your gaze focused on the menacing Mandalorian. 

The Weequay might have attacked you, but he was drunk and you were okay. You couldn’t watch Mando kill the man for what could have been a drunken mistake.

Mando swivels his head to look at you. You bite your lip, hands still clutching your own collar and chest, and you shake your head slowly. 

He seems to understand what you’re saying, because when he looks back at the man he lets his blaster drop down. He pushes the man out of his grasp, causing the Weequay to stumble back coughing and panting. 

You let out a small sigh in relief, turning to check on the child. He seems to have fallen asleep before the altercation. You’re actually glad for that. You didn’t need another instance of his abilities being displayed for others to see. 

You’re not looking when Mando lifts his arm marginally and blasts the man in the foot, but you here the ping and then the cries of the injured Weequay. You close the lid of Grogu’s pod and grimace slightly, looking back up when Mando has moved to stand in front of you. 

He takes your chin between his fingers and tilts your head up further, exposing your neck to him. 

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His voice is soft but he’s asking urgently. You can’t shake your head with how he’s holding your jaw so you clear your throat. 

“I’m fine. I’m okay.” You mumble, though your hands are trembling a bit. It’s a mixture of frustration and adrenaline. You should have been paying better attention. You could have either avoided that or gotten out of that if you weren’t so lost in your mind. 

“Come on. It’s time to go.” Mando replies, taking hold of your wrist lightly as he leads you out of the cantina. Completely ignoring the commotion from the Weequay behind you. You allow yourself to be ushered out of the cantina and in the direction of the Crest, the pod following close behind you both. 

“But wait, what about-“

“My business is taken care of.” He says before you finish. 

The rest of the walk to the ship is silent. Mando’s hand never leaving you. That normally would have excited you (it still does honestly), but you can feel him radiating anger. 

So turns out he was wrong. You _can_ get in his way. 

He marches up the ramp with you in tow, wasting no time in closing it once you’re both in the hull. Neither of you have spoken yet. You stand quietly as Mando moves the pod to Grogu’s small cubby and closes the hatch. 

His hands are clenched tightly in fists, his visor aimed at you where you stand a few feet away. It makes you gulp. You feel embarrassed, and pissed at what happened, and intimidated by Mando, but also something else. There’s emotions buried under your humiliation. Feelings about how quickly Mando was there to defend you. How he protected you, and also had his allies support in doing so. If you weren’t so frustrated with yourself, you’d probably be flustered at how he had looked out for you and checked on your well-being so blatantly. But that would have to be something you unpacked later. 

“What the hell was that?” Mando grumbles, unmoving. You wince slightly and look down at the floor. 

“I didn’t do anything. He mistook me for someone else and I... I didn’t realize what was happening before he already had ahold of me. I wasn’t... fuck. I wasn’t paying attention like I should have been-“

“No. You weren’t.”

“I know! Okay? I know I wasn’t. I didn’t mean to.” Your voice raises as you speak. You hate that he knows you messed up. And he isn’t going to let it go without confronting you about it. 

“What were you thinking?” He asks incredulously, taking a step toward you.

“I don’t know!” You whine. Your hands run over your face in exasperation, unwilling to look at Mando again. “You? Being at the cantina with you? Karga asking what I was to you? Asking myself what I was to you? I don’t fucking know what I was thinking. I was distracted.” You huff. Your voice finally coming back down to a normal volume and your hands dropping back to your sides.

Mando seems surprised at your confession. It takes a minute before he speaks again, taking another step toward you. Now he’s right in front of you, well within reach. “You could’ve taken him. I’ve seen you fight. I’ve fought you, I **know** you could’ve gotten away.”

“Yeah, I know. And I could’ve kicked your ass when we fought too if you didn’t... _distract_ me.” You groan. 

Mando tilts his head. “ **I** distract you?”

You don’t bother hesitating. “Yes!”

He takes a moment to mull over what you’re saying. His visor is still staring down at you, but you haven’t found the courage to look back at him yet. You don’t want him to think you’re incapable of taking care of yourself. Especially just because of what is essentially a crush on him that’s distracting you. 

“Why do I distract you?” He murmurs. You can tell he sounds far less upset now. It makes you relax a little. It’s easier to forgive yourself for letting things happen if he’s not mad. 

“I... I don’t know.” You sigh. Though you know damn well why. “It’s just... a lot of things have happened lately. Things that don’t normally happen. Between us. I’ve been thinking about it.” You say awkwardly, shifting your weight back and forth between your feet. 

“What exactly have you been thinking about happening?” He presses, voice softer than before. 

You feel flustered now. You didn’t anticipate things taking this turn. “You kiss me. And you make comments about kissing me more. And you let me stay in your bunk.” You breathe out, letting yourself dig up the feelings you had buried away after leaving the cantina. “You protect me. You would’ve killed that man for me. You worry about me.”

Mando hums, his hand coming up to brush a crooked finger across your cheekbone softly. You let your eyes flutter up to finally meet his gaze, continuing when he doesn’t speak. 

“You’re so gentle with me, but you damn near strangled that man because he messed with me.”

“Would you prefer I not be gentle with you?” He asks, taking your chin between his fingers. You sense that he’s probably teasing you now, but you answer anyway. 

“You can be however you want with me.” And maybe that sounded more suggestive and inviting than you meant for it to. “That’s not the issue. The problem is that I’m distracted thinking about it.”

Mando chuckles softly. All tension has seemingly left him now. You’re not sure whether it’s because you’re back in the safety of the ship or because of the things you’re admitting, but either way you’re happy he’s relaxed again. 

“Mando...” You start, but you trail off when his hand travels down to your neck. It’s gentle and slow, the leather covering his fingers gliding across the skin of your throat. 

“You’re sure he didn’t hurt you?” He asks suddenly. You blink a few times before nodding your head.

“Yes, I’m fine. It just shocked me. Made it hard to catch my breath when he had my shirt. But no, I’m not in any pain. I’m a big girl, I could handle it.” You murmur. 

He seems amused at your choice of words. But you’re surprised you even gave a detailed answer when he’s backing you against the wall, hand still resting on your neck keeping you in place looking up at him. It has your body heating up and your eyes a bit wider. 

“I know you can handle it.” He whispers, fingers tightening the smallest amount. “So tell me what I can do to help you... not be distracted.” 

You gulp under his hand, wetting your lips and squeezing your thighs together. When you had told him it was distracting how gentle he was with you. You meant it. For such a strong, large man, it made your heart stutter when he was so careful with you. But you hadn’t anticipated it being equally as disorienting when he was more domineering with you. 

“If it’s how gentle I am with you...” he mutters, his free hand reaching up to grasp your hip. “Then I don’t have to be.” His voice is dripping with honey, deep and warm and it’s going straight between your legs. 

You fight back a whimper, your eyes fluttering. He was worried and upset and now he’s got you pinned to a wall. Teasing you and tempting you with salacious promises. 

“Maybe. I just don’t know if _you_ can handle not being gentle.” You challenge, nibbling at your lip. He puts more pressure behind the hand around your throat, not enough to restrict your breathing but enough to grab your attention. It pulls a soft sound from you and you can just tell he’s satisfied with the reaction. 

“Really, mesh’la?” He taunts, pressing the length of his body to yours. 

You gasp when you feel the weight of him, and the unmistakable bulge in his trousers that presses up against you. It has you nearly salivating. You’ve thought about this moment for too long alone in your bunk, and suddenly he was teasing it. Presenting it to you without fully giving you what you crave. 

“Because I think you underestimate what you’re asking for.” He continues, basking in the satisfaction of how flustered he’s caused you to become. You can tell by his voice that he’s smug about how he’s already making you fall apart. He emphasizes his point with a small roll of his hips. 

It has you gasping again and your back curves off the wall, pressing closer to him. He groans and the hand on your hip tightens. 

His reaction has you feeling bold, even though you are all but crumbling. “Take your gloves off.” You whisper. The thought of his bare hand feeling the soft skin of your neck is what has him pulling his hands away immediately at your request. He tugs off the leather, revealing his tan hands to you once again as he drops his gloves to the floor. 

“Let me try something?” He asks quickly, waiting patiently for your reply. 

“Anything.” You purr back. You can’t keep the smirk from etching itself onto your features when you see him bristle at your tone. 

“Close your eyes.” You do so without hesitation. It’s hard to keep them closed when you hear the sound of fabric tearing, but you keep them shut tight. You don’t have to worry about it long though, because you feel the material lay across your eyes gingerly. Mando knots it behind your head, careful to not tangle your hair. You try to control your breathing but maker this is kind of... kinky? But it’s not, because he’s doing this so he can take his helmet off. But also... it is what it is. He’s blindfolded you. 

When he’s satisfied with his work, his hands leave you again. He takes a moment to appreciate how you look right now, flushed and squirming where he’s left you. Becoming impatient, you reach your hands up and rest them on the sides of his helmet. You wait for him to give you permission, which he does in the form of resting his hands on top of yours and helping you guide his helmet off. 

As soon as it’s off his head he’s crowding you into the wall again, letting the helmet fall from your hands to the floor. It’s a good thing that it’s beskar. 

His now bare hand takes you by the neck and you let the soft moan fall past your lips this time. The sound has shivers running down his spine and it takes everything in him to maintain control when all he wants to do is desperately coax more of those sounds from you. 

His free hand dances across your collarbone, fingers brushing lightly over your skin. You simultaneously want him to bend you over  **now** but also want to continue to let him take his time touching you. You settle for the latter when his fingers trail down over the slope of your breast and lightly graze your nipple over your clothing. You suck in air as the sensation shoots straight to your aching core. Underwear already damp from just the lightest of touches. 

He uses his leverage to pull your face closer to his. Soft lips graze yours as his finger circles the hardened bud beneath your shirt. A high whine echoes from you through the hull, and you feel his smirk ghosting over your mouth. 

“Mando, please.” you whine breathlessly, and you feel his smirk fall. 

“Din.” He says affirmatively. “I told you I trust you. And I care about you. So I want to hear my name when you’re begging for me like that.”

He only gives you a moment to gape in response. You’re stunned and reeling, your heart swelling in your chest. It’s both so monumental and also so fucking **sexy** in this moment. 

Then his lips are attacking yours in a passionate kiss. Your hands find purchase on his cowl, pulling him impossibly closer as your lips slot together. He wastes no time to deepen the kiss, licking into your mouth and pinning your hips to the wall with his. You let out a surprised moan into the kiss, only egging him on in his assault on your mouth. 

You only break away when you’re feeling thoroughly lightheaded and _fucked_. “You’re wearing too much armor right you.” You manage between panting. Lips swollen and red, and Mando-

**Din** can’t keep his eyes off of them. He smirks and tightens his hold beneath your jaw. You keen and your lips fall open again. “Mesh’la,” he purrs, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging at it gently. You let out a pleased whine, relishing in how dominant he’s being. “I’m not nearly as concerned about my armor as I am getting you out of those clothes.” 

If he didn’t have you pinned against the wall, your knees probably would’ve buckled at that. 

“Maybe you should take them off me then.” A small grin threatens to reveal itself on your face, waiting for Din’s response. 

A sound rumbles deep through him in his chest, vibrating against you. “Gladly.” Is all he says before his hands are pulling your shirt over your head. You lift your arms instantly, aiding him in removing the garment. You hear him growl as his eyes rake over your exposed torso.

“So fucking beautiful.” Din grits out before he leans in to attack your neck in open-mouthed kisses, his arms wrapping around your waist to keep you close. You give a pleased hum as he nips and mouths down your throat and across your collarbone. Your back arches on its own accord when he sucks and bites a mark onto sensitive skin at the base of your throat. You tangle your fingers in his unruly hair to ground yourself as he leaves a string of wet kisses down to your chest. 

You might have stopped breathing, because he’s slow to finally move his kisses to your breasts. You writhe against him, tugging at the locks of his hair as plump lips wrap around one of your nipples. 

You whimper out a few soft expletives, his mouth warm and insistent where it’s molding against your breast. Tongue rolling your perked nipple. You don’t even notice he’s moved one of his hands before it’s pinching lightly at your other, neglected nipple. You probably sound like you might start crying, and to be fair you might, it feels that good. But you’re desperate for him to give you more. It’s all simultaneously so overwhelming but also not enough. 

“You’re so soft. **Fuck**.” he groans against your chest, switching which breast he’s kissing and which he’s pinching lightly. You tug at his hair, eliciting another soft moan from him against your heated skin. 

He grazes his teeth over your hardened bud one more time before he works his way lower. His hands tug at the waistband of your pants, lips never leaving your sternum. You release his hair from your hands so that you can reach down and hastily help him push off both your pants, and incidentally your underwear, in one push. 

Once you kick both of the articles off, you’re left completely bare - sans the blindfold. You’re not sure what he’s technically allowed to take off of himself or if he plans to take anything off, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t send a jolt of excitement through you knowing that he was still almost fully armored while you were stripped naked for him. 

You’re pulled out of your thoughts when Din wraps his lips around your hipbone, sucking a lovebite into the skin there. Your hands fly out to grasp his shoulders. With how low they are, he undoubtedly has to be on his knees. The idea of how it must look has you squirming. The warrior that you’ve managed to wrap around your finger, on his knees, worshipping your naked frame with his persistent lips. 

A warm hand runs up the thigh opposite the side his mouth is on, squeezing at the flesh. You unintentionally buck forward, hips chasing his touch and the relief you so desperately need. He hums and flattens his tongue over the bruise he’s created on your hip, soothing the skin there while his hand on your thigh travels upward. When his thumb dips in to glide over your slit, you feel like you’ve lost all semblance of patience. 

“So wet mesh’la.” He murmurs, nipping softly at the skin beside your hip. “Is this for m-“

“Din,” you moan unabashedly, pushing your hips toward his touch. “ _Please_. Please touch me.”

His body goes slightly rigid under your hands at the sound of his name. He lets a low growl rumble out and you hope you’re snapping his patience too. 

It seems like you definitely did because he grabs under both of your thighs and hoists you up. He’s still on his knees, letting the backs of your thighs rest on his pauldrons as he supports your weight against the wall. You feel his breath fan over your weeping cunt and you have nowhere else to cling to but his hair, your fingers burying back in the locks where he’s between your thighs. 

“ **Say it again**.” He rumbles, biting the inside of your thigh before replacing it with a wet kiss. 

You whine, your focus bouncing back and forth between how close his mouth is to where you want it and how his hands are kneading into the flesh of your ass. 

“Din,” it sounds obscene coming from your lips. Desperate and broken. 

“Maker, it sounds so good when you say it.” He moans, the sound deep in his chest. Then he’s finally closing the distance and mouthing where you’ve been aching for it. 

You don’t hold back the surprised, filthy noises that he pulls from you as he laps at your center. The tip of his tongue pushes into you, gathering the juices that you’ve been steadily leaking with a hum of satisfaction. The sound vibrates against your core, causing your legs to twitch in response. Then he’s licking his way up to draw deliberate circles around your clit. He alternates between sucking at the sensitive nub and dipping past the contracting muscles at your entrance to taste your arousal. His stubble scratching at the skin of your inner thighs, the slight sting mixing deliciously with the pleasure. 

There’s no sense of patience or restraint now, he’s tasting you like he hasn’t had water in weeks and you’re the only source. To be fair, you imagine it’s been a while for him. And you have no complaints about the results of it. It has the familiar heat coiling low in your abdomen already with how he’s devouring you and moaning into your core. 

You pull at his hair, unable to form words quick enough and also powerless to move from where he’s pinning you to the hull wall. 

“D-Din. Wait I.... _Fuck_. I’m- You’re gonna make me-“ 

He cuts you off with a deep moan, zeroing in his tongue on your clit. He moves a thumb from where he was gripping one of the globes of your backside down to your cunt, massaging over your slick entrance. 

You can’t manage any more coherent words and your head falls back against the wall, eyes screwed shut behind the blindfold. And when he slides his thumb into you, it’s all over. He only manages a few small thrusts of the finger before you gasp and clench around the digit, your body seizing up with your climax. It rolls through you like a tidal wave, your muscles contracting and thighs squeezing around him as it racks through you. You’re not even sure if you should be concerned about how loud you’re being or if your jaw is only dropped in a silent scream. You can’t focus on anything except the sensation of Din working you through the aftershocks and the stars that dance across your closed eyelids. 

When you finally return to your body and feel the new wind of sensitivity, you half register that you’re pulling Din’s hair to get him to give your clit a break. He breaks away reluctantly and slips his finger back out of you, licking his lips as he looks up at your spent frame. 

“I’ve been waiting to taste you for far too long, sweet girl.” He rasps out, leaning in to gently lap at your wet inner thighs. Narrowly avoiding your clit as he cleans your body of the aftermath of your orgasm. You start to feel the heat in your belly rekindling as he slowly runs his tongue along the outer lips of your cunt, gathering the remanence of your slick that you know you’re probably still producing. 

Your legs are trembling and you know if he sets you back down you won’t be able to walk. But you can’t stay there forever, so he slowly lets you down. Though instead of letting your feet fall back to the floor, he pulls you onto his lap where he’s sitting back on his heels. 

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck loosely, relaxing into him. The beskar armor is pleasantly cool on your flushed skin. But what catches your attention is the hard length pressing into the underside of your thigh that is not beskar. 

Din wraps an arm tight around your middle, keeping you firm against him. His other hand reaches up to thread through the back of your hair. Pulling your face close. 

“You think that will help you be less distracted?” He whispers teasingly, pressing a wet kiss to your mouth. 

You moan into it. His mouth and chin are still wet with your arousal. You can taste yourself on his tongue. It sends heat through you that goes straight between your legs. 

You answer breathlessly when he pulls away. 

“I’m not sure. It might not be enough.”

You lean in to lick open mouthed kisses around his lips and on his chin, collecting the mess he made with a hum. 

It seems to strike a chord with Din because he groans and rocks his hips up against you, throbbing beneath the confines of his pants. You gasp softly at the stimulation to where you’re still sensitive, but you shift your hips down to meet his anyway. 

You’re surprised when Din takes one of his hands from you and the sound of material being rustled around reaches your ears. You can’t see him yank the cloak off and drape it across the floor, but you know that’s what he’s done when he wraps his arms around you and flips you around to rest the length of your body on the material laying on the floor. 

Then he leans away. A small whine passes your lips as you sit up to follow him. He chuckles softly from where he’s kneeling between your legs. You listen carefully to what he’s doing, and it only takes you a few seconds to realize he’s removing his armor. 

You reach forward with hesitant hands and begin helping him, removing the beskar plates from his body. Every piece that you both remove gets you increasingly anxious and excited. You don’t want to push it, but you’re aching to feel more of him than just his hands and lips. 

It doesn’t take long before he’s left only in his underclothes. This is where you hesitate. Your hands twitching slightly with how difficult it is to not slide them under the material of his shirt and feel the skin you’ve been imagining there. You’re not left to your thoughts long because then Din takes the initiative to pull his shirt over his head and toss it to the side. 

Your hands connect with his chest instantly, taking it as an invitation to do so, as he moves to hover over you once again. You let him lead you to lay back as your fingers trail over his toned torso, exploring the skin you’d never seen before. He groans softly, resting his head on your shoulder beneath him and allowing you to touch wherever you please. You do your best to dedicate it to memory, every scar and ridge of muscle under your palms. You eventually let your hands skim lower, snaking between you and moving one down to feel the tent in his pants. 

He sucks in a soft breath and pushes his hips into your hand. You palm him over the material, your other hand playing at the waistband of his trousers. When he shudders out another broken breath, you turn your head so that your lips brush his ear. 

“Will you take your pants off, Din? Please?” You whisper, your voice edging on desperate. But you don’t care, you are a little desperate. 

Din growls in response, nipping gently at your shoulder and peppering slow kisses over it. “Anything for you, mesh’la.” His voice is raspy with arousal and it makes you shiver. 

This time, he doesn’t move very far from you as he shuffles out of his remaining clothes. As soon as his pants are out of the way, you’re pulled back together like magnets. Lips connecting immediately. Both completely bare and desperate to feel the other one. 

Feeling this much of Din’s bare skin is intoxicating. You’re clinging to him, arms wrapped around his shoulders and hands trailing across the broad expanse of muscle along his back. In turn, his hands are feeling your body like he’s never felt another person before. Soft moans vibrate against your lips as he feels down your sides, over your spread thighs, and back up to your chest. His fingers dig into your flesh, not enough to hurt, but his touch is searing. You could get addicted to this. Feeling every naked inch of his normally hidden body. 

You subconsciously rock your hips up against him, gasping softly as his cock glides against your wet cunt. You can’t even focus on kissing him, your jaw dropping slightly and head falling back against the floor. He continues his kisses down the side of your bared neck, mimicking your movement with a slow thrust. You whimper and buck up to meet his hips. Teeth sink into your throat gently, Din’s groan muffled there. 

“Is this what you need, sweet girl?” He rasps into your neck, punctuating it with another roll of his hips. If you didn’t want him in you so badly, you could probably come just from this. 

You give a quick nod. “ **Yes**. Need you to fuck me.” It sounds needy and breathy, voice dripping with lust. “ _Please_.”

His cock twitches against you in response. You whine softly when he leans back, sitting on his heels as he gazes down at you. You can practically _feel_ his eyes taking you in. Your flushed chest heaving, legs spread, your dripping cunt exposed and waiting. He makes a pained noise, eyebrows furrowed as he grips the base of his length and drags it over your slick folds.

Your back arches, breath caught in your throat for a moment. Being blindfolded makes you keenly aware of every brush of his skin and every nudge against your clit. You let out a broken, pleased sigh. 

“Maker. Look at you.” Din mutters, still teasing his cock over your entrance. “So fucking _pretty_. And soft. And so **wet**.” He growls, nudging the tip into you slowly. 

You bite your lip, hands clutching his cloak beneath you. You hadn’t thought about it before, but he’s definitely **big**. The stretch creates a slight burn, but it doesn’t outweigh the pleasure that shoots up your spine as he gradually sheaths himself inside of you. 

“Fuck.” Din grits out when he’s fully seated inside of you, unmoving to give you a chance to adjust. “So tight, mesh’la.” He hisses, leaning down to hang over you. His eyes studying your face as he fights to keep from fucking you into the floor. 

You let out a low moan as you adjust to his size, hands coming up to clutch him close as you relax around him. It’s so much better than you even imagined it. You feel unbelievably full of **him** and you’re getting increasingly impatient for him to move. 

One of Din’s hands find itself taking ahold of your jaw, giving a small nudge of his hips experimentally. You let a surprised squeak fall past your lips. His mouth curves into a smirk, eyes glued to your features. 

“Wish I could see your pretty eyes, sweetheart.” He groans, carefully beginning to roll his hips in shallow thrusts that have you digging your nails into his back. He tightens his grip on your jaw and ghosts his lips over yours. “Wish you could see me fuck you.” It comes out gravely and sultry. And then he’s kissing you, lips guiding yours and tongue slipping into your eager mouth. It’s messy and passionate, filled to the brim with soft noises of approval. 

“Din,” you whimper when you break away, wrapping your legs around his hips. He moans brokenly and let’s his head fall into the crook of your neck. He pulls his hips back to start a steady pace of full thrusts, only leaving his tip inside you before plunging back in to the hilt over and over. 

You can’t restrain the erotic noises it’s pulling from you, every thrust deep and deliberate. His hips grinding against yours every time he’s fully sheathed. It has him hitting a spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back. 

Din’s kneading the flesh of your thighs where they’re draped over his hips, keeping them in place. His tempo picks up, thrusting into you with more fervor. Drilling deep into you with every roll of his hips. It has you clenching around him and tangling a hand in the back of his hair. You could feel the growing arousal deep in your abdomen, pulling tight. 

Din is getting tense too, all muscle and slightly sweaty skin pressed against you. He brings his head back to rest his forehead against yours, gazing down at you. “I can feel how close you are, cyare.” He groans, nipping at your bottom lip. You’re so close and the sounds you’re making are pornographic. But you can’t even feel embarrassed with how Din is fucking into you, persistent and masterful. “I’ve been imagining making you come on my cock for a month.” He growls, emphasizing his point with his earnest thrusts. “Now I’m not gonna be able to stop thinking about how warm and soft you are. How tight your perfect, little pussy squeezes my cock. How **good** you look all spread out, and wet, and begging _ **my name**_.”

You could probably sob, every word he says is kindling the growing fire in you that he’s building up with every brush to that spot that’s so deep inside you, you couldn’t reach it on your own. And you know it’s going to end soon when he snakes a hand down to circle the pad of his thumb around your clit, gently and almost teasing. 

“Is this what you’ve been thinking about? Getting distracted wondering about how good I’d fuck you? What it’d feel like when I finally snap and just bend you over. _I’ve_ been thinking about it, mesh’la.” 

“Din,” you gasp out through a moan, hand tugging at the strands of his hair. You’re right on the edge. “Yes. I-I was thinking about this. Thought about it in... in my bunk sometimes. Wishing I was in y-yours.”

A groan rumbles through his chest and he finally moves his finger more steadily over your sensitive nub. 

“Wanna feel you come on me, sweet girl.” He breathes. “I’ll take you in my bunk whenever you want. _I’m all yours, cyar’ika_.”

And with one more stroke of his thumb over your clit, you’re falling over the edge. You’re suspended in pleasure for a moment, back arching and breath stuck in your throat. And then you’re unraveling with Din’s name on your tongue. You’re clenching around him, muscles spasming as he fucks you through your high. He’s forcing erotic noises from you, and the only word you seem to remember is the name he shared with you. It only seems to urge him on every time it spills from your mouth. 

“Sound so. Fucking. Pretty.” He grunts, his hips faltering in their rhythm. “Can’t last when you say my name like that.”

His hands are clutching you to him, mouth moving to kiss heatedly at your neck. You’re finally coming down from your climax enough to form a coherent sentence.

“Please. Want you to come in me, Din.” You plead softly, lips brushing the hair at the side of his head. “ _I’m all yours._ ”

It hits him almost unexpectedly, falling apart at your blatant request and proclamation. He’s spilling deep inside of you, painting your tight walls with a deep, drawn out moan. His hips stutter through it, face still buried in your neck as you cling to him. 

Once you’ve both come down, you’re left panting and hanging onto each other. The two of you are damp with sweat and come, but your muscles are tired and just short of functioning properly yet. 

Din is managing to keep most of his weight off of you, but his body is still draped over yours. Completely covering you where he has you pinned on the floor. And you could probably fall asleep like this, sated and naked with him. 

It almost seems surreal now. But it actually happened. Almost two weeks of sexual tension broken. However, now you’re not sure if this will satisfy you or make you insatiable. He even admitted the same thing. Now all you’ll be able to think about when you see the armored man leaving for a bounty, is how he feels when he’s buried deep inside of you, unarmored and vulnerable, rolling his hips up into your g-spot like he knows your body better than you do. 

You shudder at the thought and he hisses softly at the feeling, finally pulling out of you carefully. But you don’t let go of him. He doesn’t seem to mind, leaning forward to slot your lips together in a lazy kiss. It’s slow and languid, but it also feels important. Like he’s communicating words that he doesn’t know how to articulate in the press of his lips to yours. It makes you a little dizzy, drowning in the contentment that’s washing over you. 

He grins against your mouth before leaning away. “So. Maybe you won’t be distracted now.” He hums, unable to hold himself back from leaning in to trail soft kisses across your collarbone. 

Goosebumps raise on your arms and you smirk back. “I don’t know.” You tease. “To be fair, I thought it would help me not be distracted _before_ I knew what it was going to be like.”

He chuckles and brushes his hands down your sides gently. It almost tickles. But you refuse to interrupt him while he’s taking the opportunity to look at the aftermath. Your exhausted form, a few stray lovebites branding your skin, your thighs that are still trembling just slightly, and his come that’s slowly dripping out of your abused cunt. He tugs his lip between his teeth, tracing his fingers over your hips with a feather-light touch. 

“Well unfortunately I think I’ll be sufficiently distracted from now on too, mesh’la.” He sighs, though a smile is curving his lips. 

You laugh lightly, reaching out to grasp his wrists.

“You? Distracted? By what?” You tease.

He hums and tightens his grip on your hips momentarily. “You.” It’s simple. But the way he says it almost sounds... affectionate. It’s sweet. He says it with intention. It makes you flush. 

Then he’s scooping you up, pulling you into his lap again. You let your arms fall around his neck, body willing and placid in his hold. His arms are circled around your waist, holding you tight to him. 

“Did you mean all of that stuff you said?” You whisper, a bit bashful to be asking. But you couldn’t help but hope it wasn’t just pillow talk. Things said in the heat of the moment. 

Din shifts, just barely, and scans your face as you wait for his reply.

“Yes.” He admits quietly, clutching you tighter. “I did.”

You rest your forehead against his, breathing out a small sigh of relief. “I did too.” You confess. “I really meant it, Din.”

“Good.” He rasps out, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “You said earlier that you were thinking about what you were to me. _You’re mine_.” He says possessively.

You shiver and huff a soft laugh, hiding your face in his stubbly cheek. You feel him grin and his hands slide up your back soothingly. “Now let me clean you up so I can take you back to my bunk.” He adds.

You spend the night wrapped up in Din’s blankets and arms. It’s nearly suffocating, how he’s laying half on you, stealing kisses and tucking his head into the crook of your neck. You can tell he’s less hesitant with you. In fact, there’s little to no hesitation now as compared to the last time you were in his bunk. His touches are no longer timid, they’re firm and insistent. Like he can’t get enough of you. Of feeling your skin on his - with his hands and his lips. 

He had shut the lights off once you entered the room so you could remove the blindfold. You still couldn’t see, but it didn’t make any difference in you being able to feel him smothering you on the bed. 

It doesn’t bother you at all though. Not only is the weight of him comforting and warm, but you guess that he probably didn’t have a person he could trust in this way in a long time. In fact, you knew he didn’t. You knew enough about him to gather that this definitely had to be the first time he trusted another person this much. Enough to be unarmored, unmasked, and sleep with (in multiple senses) like this. It made your heart ache. 

So you allow him to dwarf your body with his, trapping you under the weight of him, with a soft grin on your lips. It’s almost overwhelmingly intimate. But you wouldn’t prefer it any other way. 

  
When you wake up, the first thing you notice is the heavy weight draped over your waist. A sleepy smile breaks across your face as you gradually come to. You’re not sure when you rolled onto your side, but you can feel Din’s even, steady breathing where his chest is pressed against your back. His chest rising and falling with every breath. And you can feel his exhales on the back of your neck, air tickling you where his lips are grazing your skin. You’re also acutely aware that you can still feel the warmth of his nude form tangled with yours. You had half a mind that he might cover back up with clothes when you were asleep, but it seems as though he had no intention of doing that yet.

You blink your eyes open to see the dimly lit room. Din hadn’t slid the door shut all the way when he carried you to his bed last night, so the glow from the automatic lights in the hull are spilling into the bunk. It illuminates the room enough that you can see the tan arm holding you against his frame. You can feel his other arm under your head, his bicep supporting your neck. 

You guess that you’ve been laying like this for a while, because your right arm has lost feeling beneath you. It tingles when you shift, attempting to pull it father forward without disturbing the man

But Din must be a light sleeper. Soft lips linger at the back of your neck, near the base of your shoulder, pressing lethargic kisses there. 

You hum quietly, eyes fluttering back closed at the pleasant sensation. Your eyes stay shut when he buries his face into your neck, hair tickling at your collarbone. It makes you shudder and melt back against his chest. 

“The light.” You murmur a warning, just to ensure he’s aware you can see. 

“Go back to sleep.” He says into your neck, his morning voice unbelievably raspy. The arm beneath your head bends to fold across your shoulders so that both his arms are caging you in. You grin and shake your head. 

“We can’t stay here. Grogu is gonna wake up soon.” You reason, though you’d be completely content staying here and letting him trap your bare body against his. 

“You’re warm.” He sighs in content, nosing at your tousled hair and breathing in the smell of your shampoo. 

The events of the past day have seemingly broke down Din’s walls. He was more confident in his actions regarding you, unashamed, slightly possessive. It tugs at your heart. You can understand the feeling, somewhat. You had only been _close_ with a couple other men before. Sure you had been in relationships and had stupid one night stands, but it had been so long since someone called you _theirs_. And maybe that had never been a thing that happened for Din. It would make sense. So you let him be this way. For him, but also because you’re delighted at the change. 

“I’m sorry.” His deep vibrato breaks you from your thoughts. “About what happened yesterday at the cantina. Even if you were distracted, I should’ve been there to stop him before it happened.”

Your eyebrows furrow together. “No, you don’t need-“

“It won’t happen again.” Din interrupts gently. His arms squeeze around you. “I won’t let it happen. No one will _touch_ you again if you don’t want them to.”

You subconsciously nibble at your lip through a grin. You’re prepared to tell him that he didn’t need to apologize when a loud coo cuts through your conversation. 

You feel the hot rush of air that Din sighs into your hair. You deflate a little too, you weren’t ready to give up your current situation- you weren’t sure if you’d ever be with Din completely bare and unmasked again. But the kid needed taken care of, and you had high hopes that maybe you _would_ end up here again. So you needed to get up. 

“I have to get him. He’s probably hungry.” You murmur. Though Din doesn’t move, his hold unyielding and firm. 

When you hear Grogu call out again, Din finally moves. He gives you one last squeeze before he pulls his arms back. You’re careful when you slide out of the bed to not look behind you, keeping your back toward Din. 

“You should probably put clothes on before you get him.” He teases quietly, eyes glued to your figure as you ease out of the bed and step toward to doorway.

You laugh in response as you exit into the hull. Padding over to where your clothes, Din’s clothes, and his armor lay scattered about. You slide on your underwear and grab the first piece of clothing you see, slipping it over your head while jogging to the small cubby Grogu is in. 

Big brown eyes greet you, tiny hands extended out in your direction. A bright smile graces your lips as you reach in and pull him to your chest. 

“Hey, kiddo. Let’s eat, yeah?”

Grogu pats his hands together excitedly, until his attention is pulled to something over your shoulder. You don’t have to look to know its Din. And you’re not sure if he has his helmet yet, so you continue to go about your mission of finding a packet of food. You find a cup of some sort of yogurt you bought on your last supply run and settle on that for Grogu. Who is still staring over your shoulder, cooing and even waving a tiny hand. It makes you chuckle softly to yourself as you gather the few things you’ve collected in one hand. 

“Are you wearing my shirt?”

You turn toward him when you hear his modulated voice. It takes effort not to frown at the sound of it, but you manage to fight it back. You just missed the sound of his natural voice now. 

“Oh,” you sputter as you realize what he’s asked you, your eyes moving from his visor to your body. Sure enough his black, long sleeve shirt is covering you. You’re surprised you didn’t notice, it’s definitely bigger than your shirts. “Yeah, I am. I’m sorry. I didn’t even realize, give me a second I can-“

“No. It’s okay.” He says, huffing a small laugh. “Keep it.”

You look back up to meet his gaze, your cheeks flushing a light pink. Why you’re suddenly a little embarrassed, you don’t know. He had seen you in _far_ less. 

But he’s standing there, shirtless. Only in his trousers and helmet. So maybe you’re blushing for more reasons than one. 

You make your way to the small table and rest Grogu there on the top. His attention is still on the topless man standing a few feet away, so you take the opportunity to sit and open the container of food. 

“I forgot yesterday,” Din speaks again. “I never gave you your cut from the bounties we turned in. Since things got... It just slipped my mind.”

You hum as you raise a spoon of mush up to Grogu. His attention is quickly pulled back to you, waddling closer to eat the food happily. 

“Just keep it on you. Put it toward rations or something. I’m not worried about it.” You respond, flashing him a quick smile between delivering the child in front of you bites. 

Din pauses where he had been gathering the clothes from the floor, depositing them on top of a crate. “You don’t want it?”

You shrug. “I don’t really buy much. Usually I’m just spending it on different snacks for Grogu or new tops when mine get too grease stained to be considered presentable.” 

Grogu begins mumbling nonsense around a mouthful of food at the sound of his name, effectively causing the yogurt to drip down his chin. It makes you laugh as you attempt to catch it with your spoon. 

“Just keep it. You’re my partner. I’ll let you know if I need something.” You say decisively. When you look back up Din is closer than he was before, your face eye level with his abdomen. You trail your eyes back up to his helmet with a small grin. 

He hums down at you, helmet tilted slightly as he regards you. You hadn’t intended to, but you had just made it clear that you were no longer sticking around for the ‘job’. And if Din asked about that, you wouldn’t know what to even make of that. So you remained oblivious to your subconscious confession and Din chose to take it in stride, silently accepting the fact that you _wanted_ to stick around with him. That you wanted to be with _him_. 

“You’ll tell me if you need **anything**.” He’s not asking you, he’s telling you. 

You groan playfully and turn back to Grogu, who was getting impatient when you stopped feeding him momentarily. “I will tell you if I need something.” You agree. 

“Good.” He says simply. His body turns from you as he heads back toward his bunk. Probably for a new shirt, considering you basically stole his. 

“Although I think you’d be fine without getting new shirts.” He states as he’s retreating. “I prefer the way you look in mine.”

You fight back a flush at the compliment. He really shouldn’t be able to make your cheeks heat up with the simplest of flattery, but he manages to have that effect on you anyway.

Din pauses at his door, helmet glancing back toward you as you continue staring at the yogurt cup in your hand. Still sporting a faint blush. 

“Or without one at all.”

You know you look as flustered as you feel at the comment. And you also know that Din caught sight of it before he disappeared into his bunk if his chuckle is anything to go by. 

You’re surprised at how content and happy it makes you feel. Sitting there smiling like a love-struck idiot.   


Consider yourself thoroughly smitten and fucked.


End file.
